


30 Day Writing Challenge.

by footballffbarbiex



Category: Football RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-05 09:33:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 29,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15860958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/footballffbarbiex/pseuds/footballffbarbiex
Summary: 30 days. 30 blurbs/one shots/drabbles. Many players.(as of the 22nd, I've moved house. I still don't have full internet access but I'm trying to update as and when I can.)





	1. 30 Days Of Domestic Bliss.

Word count: 852  
Player: Rurik Gislason. ____________________

Waking Up Together.

Rurik has been awake for what feels like hours. He hasn’t opened his eyes yet to check what time it is or what time he’d woken up, but he feels he’s been laid here far too long. He can’t hear anything other than deep breathing beside him and there’s no movement either, no stirring or adjust weight as they play on their phone. Clearly still in the land of nod, Rurik dares not to move or stretch like he would love to for fear of waking her up.

This was one of his favourite times. When he’s able to wake up before her, enjoy these moments of her sleeping soundly beside him. he loved to watch her, taking in each detail and memorizing all her details. They’d been dating for several months and this was the only time she physically relaxed around him. Truly relaxed. It was still early days for them, they were riding the highs of the new romance. Texts continuously throughout the day, good morning and good night texts, “I miss you” mores, long lingering kisses and roaming hands and the sex? The fiery, passionate, learning what you love type sex was mind-blowing.

But when she slept, he was able to capture everything about her and submit it to his memory along with her laugh, the way her hair smelt, her post sex haze smile and her quirky habits. He thought of her dances as she has different ones for different levels of happiness and excitement. He thinks of her laugh, the normal and the uncontrollable which never fails to make his stomach hurt as he laughs along with her.

He thinks of the way her eyes crinkle as she smiles, a true smile not the one she does to be polite. He loved how he already knew her smiles, how he knew her gestures. It wasn’t that she was predictable or she had only a handful of things that she did often, he just studied her, he listened to her and spent a lot of time with her, though it wasn’t enough for him. No matter how much he spoke to her, no matter how time he spent with her, it was never enough, not to him.

Her breathing changes and he turns ever so slightly to try not disturb her. When his eyes open, a smile creeps onto his face. He longs to push the hair from her face and to stroke down her nose but he knows this will wake her and he wants a few more moments to himself. She’s wearing one of his shirts. A simple plain cotton tee but on her it looks amazing. The loose fitting top rides up, exposing the bottom of her back and her waist as the bed sheet slips to just above the curve of her butt.

Her soft skin begs to be kissed, her body screams to be cuddled and held. She, herself, deserves to be loved in ways he can’t or in ways he doesn’t feel like he could. His feelings scare him already. They’re increasing weekly and he’s feeling himself falling quickly. She was everything he never knew he needed. Never knew he was missing someone like her from his life but now she was here? He didn’t want to lose her. They were perfect together. His family and friends loved her. Her family had taken him in like he had always been part of their family.

When he looks at her he feels his heart swell, his body feels tingly and his emotions are heightened. She makes his life better. He loves his career as a footballer, he’s been able to see countries and places and have experiences that he never, ever could have dreamt of but them next to her? They were forgettable. They didn’t seem as important. He’s just thankful that he’s able to make more memories only this time with her in them. He wants to show her everything, the world and more but more importantly, he wants to share everything with her.

He hadn’t told her he loved her, he was working his up to it and knew it would be said soon. He couldn’t hold it anymore and he didn’t want to hold it in. He wanted her to know that she wasn’t someone who he could live without. She wasn’t someone who he felt he could replace.  
Her eyes flutter open and she groans as she sees how light it is. He grins and moves towards her as she snuggles into his chest.  
“It’s too early baby.” She mutters. He glances at the bedside table and sees it’s coming up to 9am. He’s slept in by normal standards.  
“It’s late for me.” He cups the back of her head and kisses her hairline. His nose brushes against her hair and he breathes her in.  
“Can we just stay like this a little longer?” she asks, her thigh slipping over his hip, pressing herself sleepily against him.  
“We can stay like this as long as you’d like.”  
_We can stay like this for as long as you’ll have me._


	2. Morning Routine.

Word count: 1201  
Player: Julian Draxler.   
_____________

Mornings with Julian should be easy but they never are.   
She slips from the bed, leaving him sprawled across it on his belly with his limbs spread out. She turns to look at him, wondering how the hell she even managed to fit on there at all. The sounds of the baby grumbling alerts her to the reason she woke up and she pads to the nursery. Their son stares up at her with Julian’s eyes. He looks like a tiny version of his father in every way. From the way he looks to the facial expressions. At 10 months, he’s already got his fathers expressions down to a t with unnerving precision.   
“You can’t joke that he’s the postman’s now.” Julian would say as he lifts their son above his head and grins at the sound of his baby chuckles. 

“Hey little man,” she coos as she walks towards the crib and opens her arms. He lifts his tiny, chubby arms ready to be picked up as he sucks on his dummy enthusiastically. His eyes are sleepy and he uses a hand to rub in circles while his head drops sleepily as she hears Julian’s alarm ringing. A thud tells her he’s slapped a hand down to silence it. She scoops him into her arms and holds him close to her chest as she lays him on the changing mat and begins to change his nappy and get him changed.   
Once fresh and clean, she makes her way back past their bedroom, peeking inside, she sees he’s still asleep. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes she knows he’s going to be late for training.   
“Julian.” She calls his name as she begins to head downstairs. 

“I’m up. I’m up.” He groans into the pillow. They’ve done this enough times for her to know he’s turned over and he’ll fall back asleep.   
Once downstairs, she sits the baby in his highchair while she puts the coffee machine on and begins to prep his milk. The prep machine whirls to life as she places the bottle in the spot and starts to get Julian’s pre-workout shake ready that he’ll drink in the car before getting to training. She would usually begin to make breakfast too but on mornings like these, he’ll not have time. She doesn’t blame him for wanting a few more minutes, she wishes she could do the same but mum life prevents this from happening. 

Handing the baby his bottle, he eagerly takes it in his little hands and lifts it upside down to drink it. She grabs Julian’s training bag, heads to the utility room while his alarm sounds yet again, and swaps everything over. Pulling out the dirty training clothes that he promised he’d taken out and put in the wash yesterday, she loads the washing machine with them and wonders what else she can bulk it out with so it’s not a small wash. Her hands move to the shelves where his clean kits are and puts them in the bag. 

He could easily leave these at the training ground and have the staff there clean them but she liked to do it for him ever since he brought them home and he never stopped her. Plus if he was being honest, he preferred the fabric softener and the smell of the laundry when it was done at home. It smelt like her in a way and he’d sniff it when he missed her, especially on mornings when they’d have lazy morning sex and he was in a particularly good mood afterwards.   
She loads the washing machine with clothes of similar colours and brings the bag back out. He’s still drinking his milk and smacking the highchair tray as he looks around the room. She still hears nothing from upstairs as she stands at the bottom of the stairs.   
“Julian.” She calls his name again.   
“I’m up!”  
“You said that twenty minutes ago. What are you doing? You have to be out of the door in less than ten minutes.” It’s only then that she hears the thud of his feet hitting the floor, rushing towards their en-suite. Walking back to the kitchen she shakes her head, “no baby, daddy was not up. He was not ready and he will be late. Yes he will.” She says in a higher pitch sing-song voice which has the little boy laughing. 

Their relationship was simple, easy and loving. It had taken him several months to convince her to go on a date but she was pleased he had. Being with Julian wasn’t hard, it wasn’t difficult and it wasn’t a struggle like some of her previous relationships had been. She was able to live her life as normal as possible considering Julian’s status and the interest in their family. She kept herself to herself, hardly considering herself to be a WAG. She knew she was but she wanted something more than to just be Julian’s girlfriend. It was hard enough knowing she was just “mum” at times let alone losing who she was too because of her boyfriend. It was a situation she refuses to accept and so she makes herself be someone.   
Julian runs down the stairs minutes later, his hair is messy, sleep is still in the corners of his eyes but he smiles when she sees her as he tugs down his shirt, covering the last of the visible flesh of his stomach. 

“I swear I set an alarm.” He babbles as he scurries about the kitchen, opening cupboard doors and frowning when he can’t find what he’s looking for.   
“Yep, we heard each one.” She replies. He turns, her hand is already outstretched with his training kit and her other half grasps his shake.   
“Baby, you’re so amazing.” He rushes forward, cups her face with both hands and presses his lips to hers. She can taste the toothpaste still on his lips and she grins at his praise. He presses his lips once more to hers before turning his attention to the baby who is now gripping the bottle by the teat and banging it on the tray. “I’m sorry I didn’t get up with you this morning,” he crouches and stares at his mini me. “I promise we’ll have the best time later though right little man?” he ruffles his son’s hair and stands up once more. “I should only be a few hours but when I get in, we’ll do something right? We’ll go for lunch and I’ll make it up to you. I know this morning was meant to be my morning with him.”  
They usually take it in turns. She’ll do one and he’ll do the next day and she’ll take the one after. It’s something they’ve done since he was born and it’s worked well….unless Julian sleeps in. It wasn’t often this happened but when he does, he always apologizes and always takes her out for something to eat to say sorry. She didn’t mind taking a few extra morning shifts and she certainly wasn’t going to complain about being taken out.   
Their morning routine was often messy, unorganized and tired, but it was theirs and it worked.


	3. Laundry Day.

Words: 881  
Player: Roman Burki  
__________________________

She was going to have to take this into her own hands because she was tired of listening to Roman’s excuses.   
“Oh I forgot.”  
“After this game babe.”  
“After training?”  
“Leave it there and I’ll do it when I get in.”  
“After this nap?”

Roman was the master of avoiding his household responsibilities and coming back when everything was done and feigning sadness in the form of, “babe I said I’d do it? Thank you though.”  
Today, she would kill him with kindness. Not bothering to ask him to help, she dresses and heads downstairs wondering where to start. She pulls a notebook towards her and grabs a pen.   
TO DO LIST: she writes. She makes a list and looks over it, wondering which one she wants to tick off first. Deciding she may as well start bottom and work her way up while Roman is in bed, she begins in the kitchen. She pulls everything from the sides, fills the kitchen sink with hot water and adds a splash of bleach to it and washes all the counter tops down. She takes a wet cloth and wipes down the kitchen cabinet doors and the back of the stove.

She sprays the appliances and cleans them. She opens the windows and allows some fresh air in. Next she cleans the table. She should really hoover but she’s worried the noise would wake Roman so she leaves this. She heads to the utility room and begins to pile clothes into the washing machine. She hoped to have it all finished before the end of the day and she could relax tonight and tomorrow, not having to worry about anything else needing doing. She hears movements upstairs and wonders what he’ll be up to today.   
“Someone’s cleaning…” he states in a sing-song voice.   
“How can you tell?”   
“I can smell lemon and bleach. Not good because it means I’m in trouble.” She steps out of the utility in time to see Roman standing before her shirtless in black sweatpants. His hair is messy, he looks tired but stunning and she hates him.

“Yes you are,” she deliberately looks away. It was nothing but a tactic. He wanted to distract her, make her want him and she’ll forget about asking him for help.   
“Do you want a drink and you can tell me off? I’d offer to make breakfast but everything is so clean, I don’t want to mess anything up.” His tone sounds genuine but her eyes are lingering on his torso. Damnit he was beautiful.   
“No, I’d like you to go and get dressed because you’re distracting me.” She looks at him and want to throttle him for smirking.   
“See, I’d love to baby but you’re doing the washing, so I don’t have much to wear…you’re lucky I’m even this dressed. Unless you want to wash these too?”   
“Nope.” She says, her tone rising too quickly. “no, I’m good thanks.”

“Are you sure I can’t help?” She hooks her finger on the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls him towards her. “If I thought you wanted that kind of help, I’d have come downstairs earlier…” He grins at her.   
“Oh I do. I have just the job for you.”  
“Blow? Hand?” He asks innocently.   
“It definitely includes using hands.” She bites her lip and pulls him into the utility room.   
“I think I’m going to like this.”   
His hands run over her hips and over the curve of her ass. “Are you ready?” she asks and Roman nods enthusiastically. “Good. It shouldn’t take you long.” With her other hand, she pulls the basket of freshly cleaned clothes from yesterday towards them. “You can sort these. Thank you for offering so eagerly.”

Roman runs his tongue over his teeth and shakes his head.   
“You tricked me.”  
“No…” she trails off wondering how to word it, “I simply let you believe what you wanted. There’s a difference.” He scowls at her justification but dips his hands into the basket and begins to sort through them as she leaves the room. Moments later he hears the hoover start. He knows he’s been slacking in the household chores department and he really did intend to help. It was always just at the wrong time. Always when he was either doing something or about to. His hands begin to make quick work of the pile, folding and separating them into different sections. His. Hers. Socks and underwear.

“Hey babe?” He calls out. She doesn’t answer but he hears her approaching. He stretches the fabric and aims it at her. When she enters the utility, he fires the underwear at her. She catches it quickly, her lips forming an unimpressed pout and a raised eyebrow. She really wants to laugh as he stands there with smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I love your ass in these but how do you wear them?” He asks snatching the tiny garment back. He holds it up but she moves quickly and grabs it back before he has the chance to put it on his head.   
“I could always wear huge grandma panties.”  
“And I would still love you.”  
“Even with big pants?”  
“Even with big pants.” He grips her hips and pulls her body towards him, pressing his lips to hers.


	4. Night In.

Word count: 780  
Player: Antoine Griezmann.   
__________________

Antoine had been adamant that they should have a night in together, turn their phones off and just be together. It wasn’t something that they did often and so she jumped at the opportunity. Antoine had cooked, she’d got the snacks and they both chose the film. 

Antoine opens his arms and she snuggles into him. She sighs contently, not realizing how much she needed this before tonight. Not realizing how far they’d drifted apart. They’ve spent the evening connecting again. They spoke to each other, looked at each other (really looked at each other) and asked questions about each other’s lives. She thought they’d been doing well, that she’d taken an interest in what Antoine had been doing day to day but listening to him tonight she was hit with the truth that actually, she hadn’t listened to him at all previously. She could see it on his face too that he’d done the same thing. That he’d listened but not heard a word she’d said. He had no clue what was going on at work or how she was feeling. He’d been attentive over the dinner he’d cooked, his fingers had absentmindedly played with hers as they’d talked and laughed. He complimented her and she felt herself brighten at his praise. She also saw the guilty look on his face as he realized he hadn’t done it for a while. 

The chance to cuddle on the sofa was one that she couldn’t refuse. Her fingers link through his and she pulls his arm round her tighter as she brushes her lips over his fingers.   
“I’m sorry,” she hears him say behind her.

“What for?”  
“Neglecting you and our relationship.” He says moving himself and snuggling into her more.   
“I’m sorry too.”  
“I didn’t mean to. Tonight made me realize how long it’s been since we’ve done something together and I’ve missed it. I’ve missed your company. I’m sorry for treating you like an option rather than a priority.” He presses his lips to her hair and breathes in deeply.   
“I’ve missed it more than I thought. It’s not just you, I’m to blame also. There’s two of us in this relationship and we’ve both taken each other for granted.”

When she turns in his arms to look up at him, he pulls his hands free and cups the side of his face before he kisses her. God she’s missed this. Without breaking the kiss, she turns until she’s facing him, her chest presses to his and she tangles her legs with his. His hand runs down over her waist and hip. It continues over her ass until it reaches the back of her thigh when he pulls gently, bringing her leg over his hip and he deepens the kiss; his tongue slipping between their lips to mix with hers while his hand strokes up and down her leg softly. The kiss isn’t rushed, it’s not needy or desperate. It’s slow, loving and yet still makes her melt. Despite it not being all consuming like some of their kisses, it feels much more intimate. It feels almost like it was in the start, when he was trying to figure out what she liked and would kiss her deeply yet softly. He made her feel wanted and loved when he kissed her like this. It never failed to make her adored. He never failed to make her feel adored. Even with the lack of communication, the way he looked at her? Every single day he looked at her like she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And to him, she is.

 

“Antoine?” She says quietly, pulling away slightly though her lips still brush his as she speaks.   
“Hmmm?”  
“Can we have more nights in together?”  
He grins, “I can definitely make this happen. Also,” he begins, his eyes drop to her lips and he wets his own. “I’ve been thinking and I want to extend our family. If you’ll let me.” When her eyes widen, he laughs. “I want a dog but only if you’ll agree.” A dog? Her mind races, images fill her head of him playing with a small pup. Antoine’s giggles were infectious enough when it was just the two of them let alone a small wriggly pup too. She considers the walks they’d take, the hours of play and how much she adored having a dog when she was growing up. It was the perfect addition and one she fully welcomed.   
“I accept. We’re going to be fur baby parents?” She asks with a smile.   
“For now. Until I can convince you for something else.” He kisses the tip of her nose.   
“For now.”


	5. Nighttime Routine.

Word count: 968  
Player: Marco Reus. 

_______________

She tried to get the family into a routine the best she could. She understood it wasn’t always possible. With Marco’s job it meant he was away for a lot of it either for away games, competitions or matches on an evening but when he was able to be home, she took full advantage. She cooked large family meals and ensured that they all sat together. Marco would always be between the twins, entertaining them the best that he could while she finished dinner. They loved having daddy home and would ask him lots of questions. 

Questions she has already answered a million times but it coming from dad? Well, it must be true. Anything she did, it was ok. If daddy did it, it was better. This was just the laws of the house. She could cook the dinner but if Marco put it in front of them, it would automatically taste better than if she had. Children’s logic baffled her but the way they looked up to him made her heart swell. They completely and utterly adored him.

She didn’t like to see Marco struggle with the two of them, both of them fighting for his attention but it did make her smile. It was an insight for him to see what it was like on a daily basis for her. As much as she’d love to relax once they were in bed, she couldn’t. She had to catch up on everything that she couldn’t do while they were awake. She’d do the washing up, put a new load of laundry on, tidy up and do the hoovering, thankful that she’d brought them up around noise since bringing them home from the hospital. She hadn’t wanted to be the type of parent to tiptoe around once the children was asleep and so they were used to her playing music, watching tv and hoovering as they slept. It was a decision that certainly paid off when it came to times likes these.

She cleans up the aftermath of dinner, portioned up the rest of what could be saved and allows it to cool on the side ready for refrigeration/freezing for another day and tidies up the table. She hears the water pull from the bath, and estimates she has around 20 minutes before Marco joins her after getting them dried, dressed, teeth brushed and a bedtime story read. They loved it when he read to them. Marco was animated, put on different voices and did all the actions the book required him to.

She seats herself in the large snuggle chair and looks around, giving herself a moment to just be. Hearing the children laughing, squealing and joining in with his antics, she shakes her head. Things hadn’t always been so easy. Marco had been very persuasive when they first met. He’d convinced her to go on a date with him before she even knew what was happening. He’d charmed her, made her laugh and left her with butterflies and lips tingly from an incredible kiss. She could feel him on her mouth up to an hour after.

She’d been thrown into his crazy, upside down world and while it was out of her comfort levels completely, being next to Marco felt right. He made her feel like she could do anything, he was supportive, he was just as flirtatious as he was in the start, he bought her presents to come home to and he treat her like a Queen. There was nothing that made her doubt their relationship in the slightest. When the twins came along, everything clicked into place and she felt like she had everything.

But when they born? She hit rock bottom. She struggled and Marco hired help for her. She was sleep deprived, she was attached to a breastmilk pump and she was almost bursting into tears every hour. She felt a failure, she felt she wasn’t a good mother and like giving up. Marco had been there, he’d held her as she sobbed and soothed away her worries, concerns and her insecurities. He’d rebuilt her, helped her gain her confidence once more and encouraged her. She bloomed once more and bounced back stronger. She learnt to manage their needs, their playtime, their feeding time and even getting them dressed at once. Soon the struggles she faced seemed years ago and as though they happened to someone else. Marco had been there for her completely when she thought he’d run. He didn’t. He stayed. He loved her. He supported her.

It’s why she appreciated these nights. Where he took care of them and her like she had in the beginning for him and them. She’s still sitting in the same spot, lost in thought when Marco comes downstairs.   
“Hey,” he says, moving her body slightly and curling around her.   
“Thank you for taking care of them tonight.”   
“It’s fine.” He presses his lips to her forehead. “I think I might have made them a little hyper, so they may not sleep straight away.”  
“They never do when daddy is home.” She smiles to herself.   
“Are you saying I spoil them?”  
“Honey if the shoe fits.” She pats his cheek affectionately and he laughs. “What do you want to do now we have the night to ourselves?”   
“I could get you a bath ready, then maybe watch something on tv before going to bed?” he kisses her shoulder at the last suggestion. She doesn’t need him to say what he really means. Between playing with the twins, he’s stared at her with such intensity she knew it was a matter of time before it was suggested. She’d considered an early night but this was certainly much more tempting and she wasn’t about to turn it down.   
“How can I resist?”   
“You can’t.”


	6. Shopping For Needs.

Word count:  **984**  
Player:  **Jesse Lingard**. 

______________________

“Jesse.” She says, taking it out of his hand and putting it back on the shelf. He frowns, his bottom lip sticking out a little more in a playful pout.   
“You never let me have anything good.” He sulks, trailing after her as she maneuvers throughout the supermarket. “Nah, I’m not having it.” He turns around, goes back to the spot and grabs the item before stomping back over to the trolley and throws it in. “That is mine. I don’t wanna see you looking at it later, sniffing it later or saying how good it looks. Yeah I know it looks good, that’s why I’m getting it. You’re not getting a taste.”   
“This list,” she turns to look at him and shows the paper in her hand, “is your list. That you made. That  _you_  told me not to let you stray from.”  
“Yeah well, that was a shit idea and you should forget it and let me get the good stuff.” He replies, his tone rising higher with excitement hoping she’ll let him.   
“You could easily spend a weeks wage on snacks.” She comments   
“You lie.” He rolls his eyes, “it’s easily two weeks wages.” He smiles and she can’t help but laugh.

Jesse was impossible to shop with. She hated shopping at the best of times but with him, it was like having a child. No, a child would be better behaved. His hands were everywhere, he wanted everything his eyes looked at, he was the type to eat food on the way around and then ask to dispose of the wrappers once at the till. She would never shop with Jesse when he’s not eaten. It’s why he put the list in place. He wanted to cut back on what he bought and even though they had a night in together tomorrow and he volunteered her to cook (“babe, come on. You know I’m no good at this.”), he hadn’t wanted to go overboard. Until they got here.

Every aisle he found something else he wanted.    
“We haven’t this in ages.”  
“This looks beaut.”  
“Oooo new flavour.”  
“This is on offer.”  
“Buy one get one free.”

When her back was turned, he’d sneak off with the trolley and she’d find him leaning forward on it, using it to get around without walking. If she let him while he was in this mood, he’d be sat in the trolley while she pushes him. She turns her back for a few seconds as grabs ingredients for the main and feels for the trolley to put them in, only to realize he’s done a disappearing act again.

She exits at the bottom, putting herself in the middle of the store with a view down each set of aisles on either side of her. She spots other things she needs but without the stolen cart, she can’t grab anything else. She wanders along the center, looking out for him riding down the center of them. When she doesn’t see or hear him, she doubles back and heads back towards the other end. Despite them being here after 9pm and the place is almost empty, there’s still no sign Jesse was ever even here.

She heads to the security desk. She notices Jen, one of the girls she went to school with, and sighs.   
“I’ve lost Jesse.” She says. “Can you put a call out for him? I can’t find him anywhere.”  
“Sure. How old is he?”   
“Old enough to know better. He just wanders off, it’s very frustrating.”  
“Am I just saying Jesse?” She nods, “should he look for a responsible adult?” Jen asks and it takes every bit of strength not to laugh.  
“Oh most definitely.”   
Jen pulls the microphone towards her. Pressing a button, the store announcement sounds, “this is a customer announcement. Could Jesse please come to security. That’s Jesse to security. Please look for the next available adult in uniform if you’re worried or lost.”   
“Thanks, he’ll be so embarrassed but he has to stop doing this.”  
“Kids huh?” She feels awful for doing this. Jen is taking her job seriously and she’s made a mockery. She bites the inside of her lip and tries to hold off a laugh when Jesse appears in view, pushing the trolley and scowling at her.   
She turns to look at Jen whose eyes widen. “Jesse isn’t a child.” She whispers, “Jesse is the footballer person. I just saw him at the world cup thing when David was screaming at the TV. Oh wow. Oh shit I feel stupid now.” She hisses through her teeth.  _Yeah_ , she thinks,  _I should have said something_.   
“Someone call me?” He raises an eyebrow.   
“Do I need to put a hand strap on you to keep you by my side.”  
“You trying to tie me down already? Tsk, at least cook me this dinner first before proposing.” He turns to Jen, “sorry for bothering you. She has abandonment issues.”  
“Looks like you have commitment issues to me.” Jen shrugs. She’d forgotten Jen’s quick tongue and thankfully for her, it has the desired effect and Jesse’s eyes widen and his mouth parts.   
“Two against one, this isn’t fair.”  
“Come on little Jesse. Let me finish up shopping and get you home. It’s bath and bed time for you.” She pinches his cheek and smirks when he shakes his head.   
“You should know by now I was checking out the new ps4 demos.” He groans as they walk away. “A call out? Really? That’s harsh.” He says it with a light tone. “Imagine if people were looking around for a kid.”  
“Babe, you  _are_  a kid.”  
“I pay bills and earn a living. I am  _not_. I am a man.”  
She ignores the bear shaped sandwich meat in the trolley along with the animal biscuits, opting to smile up at him, and agree with anything else he said. “Sure thing.”


	7. Exercising.

Word count: 656  
Player: Marco Asensio.

(I couldn’t update this yesterday on here because apparently it was down for maintenance.)

__________________________

It’s not that she hated working out, it’s just she could never gather the energy or motivation to do so. She liked doing things that were fun but a lot of the time whilst at the gym it was all the same, even her routines that she did off the machines were beginning to bore her.   
Marco always seemed to enjoy his workouts. He never complained. He’d come in with a smile on his face and say how amazing he felt afterwards. Yes, she could understand this; the way she felt after a workout or a run was brilliant, but she just couldn’t get the motivation to go today and no amount of “but think of how you’ll feel afterwards” was going to cut it today. None. Not even a bit.

“Hey,” Marco grips the doorframe with a hand and swings his body back and forth on it while watching her. Her eyes meet his and finds him with raised eyebrow and an expression that means he’s waiting for a response.   
“Sorry? What did you say?”  
“I asked if you were coming for a run?” She pulls a face and tries to think of an excuse. “Nope. You’ve not got anything, stop trying to work out how to get out of coming with me. Get changed. I’ll meet you by the front door in five minutes. Move it.”

She reluctantly moves, knowing Marco would undress her and force her into her gym clothes. She changes quickly and slips on her running shoes, meeting him as he begins to climb the stairs. “Wise decision. It won’t be that bad. I’ve got you some water too.” He flashes her a smile and she feels herself return it.   
“Well don’t go too fast.”  
“I’m jogging babe not sprinting. Unless you turn it into a race. You might be my baby but I can’t let you win.” He would let her win and they both know this.

Rome is already waiting by the front door with his lead firmly between his teeth. He looks from the door to the two of them and back to the door, a gesture if she ever saw one that says “lets GO.”  
She offers her hand and Rome drops the lead into it happily, his tail already wagging excitedly.   
“Ready?” She looks at Marco who nods.   
“Have you stretched?”   
“You think I have time to change and stretch properly in the time you gave me? You’re joking right? I’ll walk for a few mins,”   
“If you think you’re backtracking to the house, just know I can outrun you.” He says with a chuckle as he jogs on the spot. He leans forward and presses his lips to her forehead. “Catch me up?” She nods as he takes Rome’s lead and the two of them go ahead; the small pup running to catch up with Marco’s long strides as he jogs.

She slips her headphones in and hits play on her playlist. Completing a few easy stretches, she begins to move, her feet going in time with the music. Her playlist, one that Marco has put together for her, is always up tempo, something to get her moving whether she wants to or not. She can’t help it. It’s the same when she’s studying. She feels her fingers move to the speed of the music.

She tries to start off slow but her feet won’t let her. Damn he’s good, she thinks. He’s changed the songs around, adding some more in there that grabs her attention and has her wanting to move against him. He’d done this on purpose, that much she’s sure of. She was going to get through this run and she was going to make sure she had her own version of a workout afterwards. The thought not only spurs her on to continue and not turn back but speeds her up. This was going to be over before she knows it.


	8. Wearing Each Other's Clothes.

Word count:  **1252**  
Player: Roman Burki.  
  


This was also a request.  
 _Can you do an imagine with Roman where his gf is a professional athlete as well? Like volleyball or hockey or something. And she’s playing a final and he’s there to watch but she looses the game and gets a nasty injury at the same time and she’s devastated and he tries to comfort her afterwards? Hope you have a nice evening!_

____________________

Roman had never asked her to attend his games or wear his jersey, though when he did he often found himself with weak knees and a huge grin. Not good when he had to have his game face on but damnit she looked beautiful when she wore it.   
She was always the first one to cheer him on, the first one to want to jump on someone when she hears them talking shit about him. She was competitive and she pushed him to do better. They worked out together, did meal prep and supported each other in every way they could. It was difficult, her being on the volleyball team meant she would also travel a lot. So the time they did have together was spent laughing, smiling, joking and trying to be happy.

Roman would do everything he could to make up for the lost time. Even if they were only separated for several days, he made it feel like it was much longer. She was kissed and cuddled like she was gone for weeks if not months. She missed him when he wasn’t around. His charm, his sense of humour and just his presence kept her sane. She missed sleeping on him, having him play with her hair and hold her closely. She missed everything about him when she was away and even though she knew their jobs required it of each other, it wasn’t easy to swallow.

This morning had left him feeling frustrated. He adored her wearing his clothes. He knows that a lot of men scoff when girls are set on wearing their shirts or hoodies but Roman loved it. She looked beautiful always. He’d made a point of buying bigger sizes, wearing them in for several months and only then would she begin to sneak them. When either of them would go away, someone would wear one of his shirts and then pass it to the other.

He’d inhale her scent as he stayed in hotel rooms alone. It helped with his night time anxiety to smell her scent, especially if he called her. He’d close his eyes and hold the shirt close by and it soothed any worries. She’d take his shirts when she had tournaments and he’d always wear it the day before, ensure it was scented with both him and his aftershave and she’d snuggle up to it as she slept. It was the only thing to make sure she had a decent nights sleep.

This morning however, she’d come down in shorts and his top. She was all sleepy, yawning and stretching. Roman usually has much more self control than he had this morning but when she’d stretched, her body leaning backwards and the shirt had ridden up, he’d quickly left his place at the breakfast bar to scoop her into his arms.   
“Well good morning to you too,” she’d chuckled, covering his face with her hand pushing him away.   
“No kisses?” He’d pouted and frowned.   
“No because your morning kisses leads to something else and I’ve gotta stay clear headed for the final.”  
“It’s a good stress reliever.” He’d countered.   
“It could be but I don’t want it.”

Because of the conflicting schedules, Roman hardly ever had a chance to go and see her games but today’s game was important to her and he was determined to make it. He loved watching re-runs of her games when he was unable to go himself and always took pride in watching her play. When out there, she was someone else completely. She looked fierce and powerful. He felt in awe of her and knew he was punching above his weight when it came to her.

He never took her for advantage. He often wondered why she’d look at him when she could have anyone. Her body was incredible, her eyes held you in your place and her smile? Oh man, her smile finished him off. He was done for when she flashed it at him.  
He stood in the crowd and for the first time since being on the court, she finally noticed him. Her smile took over and she shook her head as she laughed. He stands there in her jersey. He never told her that he’d got it but of course he had. He had one in every jersey that had come out for her since they’d been dating.

Today she’d hurt herself but she refused to stop. Her shoulder had dislocated and as a result, she’d twisted her ankle as she tripped over her feet when she felt her shoulder pop. He’d gripped the railing, panic washing over him as he saw her slip. He wanted to shout, to rush over to her and make sure she was ok. For once, he understood how she felt when he got hurt on the pitch. He’d been forced to watch as she’d hit the ground, her hands instinctively going to the worst point of pain. She hadn’t wanted to come off, she hadn’t wanted to let her team down in such an important game and he, more than anyone, knew what that felt like. To feel as though the whole team is suffering because of  _your_  actions.

He also knew it wasn’t always the case but it didn’t feel like that when it had happened. He also knew that fans could be unforgiving, especially for someone in his position. She was stubborn and it had taken a while for her to be convinced to be taken off because of her injuries. Her serve was dangerous and losing her was a big deal.   
Coming off when she had wasn’t letting the team down, it was benefitting them and while it wasn’t something that would be nice to hear, it was simply a fact. She could have hindered their result and that would sit worse with her than had she stayed on and played poorly.

He rushes over once the game is over, once he’s watched the team celebrate their win. Her eyes meet his and she laughs again.   
“You’re wearing my jersey.” Her fingers reach out to touch the fabric that covers his torso and he beams at her, pleased that him wearing such an item of clothing has perked her mood up.   
“I’m sorry I didn’t bring you better luck.”  
“Are you kidding? We won! Yeah this was a slight set back but c’mon. I’m so happy right now. A little stoned from the painkillers but I’m very happy.”

He places a hand on the back of her head and presses his lips to hers. “You’re a champion. How does it feel?”  
“Truly amazing. Thank you for coming and wearing this.” She casts her eyes back over it, her gaze becoming distant as a smile lingers on her lips. “I mean it,” she says again before pulling her attention back to him. “You were a good luck charm and if you feel even a tiny amount of pride when you see me in yours like this during match days then I get it. I really get it. It looks good on you. Fancy a career change?”

“So you can kick my ass at this too? No thanks.”  
“I couldn’t right now.” She tries to shrug but winces at the throbbing from her shoulder.   
“Even with one arm and the ankle twist, you’d still beat me.”  
“And don’t you forget it Mr.” She grins at him again as cheers can be heard from her teammates. “Are you up to celebrating?”  
“With you? Always.”


	9. Nursing The Sick One.

Nursing The Sick One.   
The thing that you need to know about Antoine is that he can milk his illness or injury when he’s at home. If he stubs his toe, he’s laying on the sofa for the rest of the day, his controller in his hands as he cries out occasionally because he can’t move without feeling pain in his foot. He’s one step away from ringing a bell to call for room service and if this his (demands) requests are not met then out comes the pout. He hasn’t quite mastered the art of crying on demand otherwise she’s sure he would add this into the mix too.   
So anything more than a stubbed toe, he puts on an Oscar winning performance.   
Today however was different.   
Today, Antoine was truly sick. His eyes were puffy, his nose was red and streaming, he had a temperature that was far too high and a sweat that wouldn’t shift, no matter how many times she tried to wipe it away. His voice, when he was awake to talk, was croaky and he would switch between French and Spanish making it hard for her to understand what he was saying. He’d mumble inaudible words, out of it with drowsiness.   
He’d tried to go to training but he’d almost passed out and was quickly driven home by one of the training grounds staff. She’d caught him in time as he’d staggered through the door, her eyes wide in disbelief that he’d even try to go out like this.   
“What were you thinking?”  
“I have to work still.” He’d mumbled, annoyed that he was in trouble as well as being sick.   
“You can barely stand by yourself and you think you could exercise and try and kick a ball?”  
“I’m sick, don’t pick on me.” He groaned, shuffling off to the bedroom and coughing hard as he went.  
So far he’s been up there for most of the day.   
She’s tried to be quiet. She’s tried to do the housework, cook dinner and look after Antoine between doing everything else. She’s brought a TV into the bedroom and his game console, along with his MacBook so he can play his football manager game. She’s brought him drinks, dry toast to line his stomach and tucked him in when he’s slept.   
She stands in the doorway watching him as he sleeps, his coughing had pulled her from the sofa downstairs to come check on him. Even sick, the sight of him laid in the bed has her stomach fluttering. She’s always found him to be beautiful. Everything about him attracted her and the way he looked at her was something she’d never seen before. No-one had looked at her before with so much love like he does. Sometimes, the intensity of her feelings for him scared her. The intensity of which he looked at her scared her.   
To see her boyfriend, one who is usually filled with so much energy and positivity, look so fragile and weak, it was hard to deal with. He moves beneath the sheets, his body turning to face her as he swallows. She’s about to turn and head back downstairs when he coughs violently. His whole body shakes with it and his eyes clamp shut as he lifts his hand to cover his mouth and coughs into his fist. His breathing is raspy and shakes as he sucks in deep lungful’s of air.  
His eyes open and he notices her there in the doorway.   
“Hey.” He croaks out. She moves quickly, reaching the side of the bed where the drink and straw is.   
“Hey my poorly boy. Take a sip.” Antoine tries to sit up but his arms shake and he falls back against the bed. She moves the glass closer to him and he catches the straw with his tongue, guiding it into his mouth for him to drink. Usually she’d tease him for the seemingly erotic action but not today. She can hear his chest wheeze as he breathes in through his nose while he drinks.   
She places it back onto the bedside table once he pushes it from his mouth and he looks up at her. His hair is sticking to his forehead, drops of sweat covers his face, his cheeks are flushed and his pupils are large.   
“Don’t look at me like you want to kiss me.” He mumbles. “I look disgusting.”  
“No you don’t. Far from.” She pushes the damp hair from his face and wipes away the sweat with a cloth.   
“I understand if you don’t want to but could you be the big spoon? I need a cuddle right now.” He asks. 

She nods and circles the bed. Pulling back the sheets and climbing in, she can feel the heat from him before even closing the gap between them. He turns to his side and lifts his elbow for her to slip her arm through the gap and cuddle into him. “I hate seeing you sick.”  
“It’s not fun being it either.” He tries to joke and laugh but groans when it hurts his body.   
“Shhhh. Please rest.” She tightens her arm around him, smiling when she feels his fingers trace of her skin. He pushes back against her and snuggles in deeper. She can feel him shiver against her despite heat radiating from him. They stay like it until his breathing becomes irregular, the sound of it gets louder and an occasional snore will sound from him.   
She places a kiss to the back of his neck, a cold sweat coats her lips but she doesn’t care.   
Rather than leaving, she buries her face into his clothed back and allows herself to fall asleep too.


	10. Hair

Word count:  **1033**  
Player:  **Roman Burki.**

A request:  
 _Roman’s girlfriend wakes him up on his birthday, singing loudly and off-key, causing him to playfully cover his ears and pull a face so to get back at him she convinces him that she can see…….._  
  

__________________

It wasn’t often that she was able to celebrate Roman’s birthday with him still being in bed let alone him having the day off too. Downstairs she’s set up tens of balloons, sprinkled “happy birthday” confetti all over the table which is laid with every type of breakfast he could wish for including a mini birthday breakfast cake. She made sure she had in all his favourite foods and snacks ready for the day.  
  


His birthday presents were wrapped and prepared to be opened throughout the day. She hated him opening them all in one go and so she’d gone for a mixture of things this year. Things she knew he’d like, things she’d seen him eyeing but never purchased because “I’ll get it later,” only to not and fun things. She’d bought him a play gadget that could fit in his pocket. A tiny cube with many different sides with different things on. Something to scroll, swirl, run his thumb over and to press. An object to help with his anxiety.

She isn’t sure what he’ll want to do today, but she’s made sure that if he wants to stay in there’s plenty to keep him going. Armed with a cupcake, one of 28 that she made, a cake candle and a lighter, she heads upstairs to where Roman sleeps. Him sprawled across the bed in deep slumber makes her smile. She can smile now she’s not in there with him with his body wrapped around her and refusing to let her go.

She places the cupcake, candle and lighter on the bedside table and jumps on the bed. Roman groans instantly, turning over and pulling the sheets up and over him as she sings happy birthday loudly.   
“Happy biiiiirthday dear Roooooomaaaaaaan, happy birthday to youuuuuuu,” she finishes, raising her voice a lot louder than necessary towards the end, her arms spread wide to the ceiling and her eyes are closed for the grand finale. “I really felt that,” she concludes, looking down to find him covering his ears and pulling an unimpressed face.   
“Baby, I love you. Know that I love you. But that was awful. Please never sing again.”

  
Narrowing her eyes at him, she gets to her knees and pops the candle in the cupcake frosting and lights it. Roman grins and pulls himself to a sitting position as she brings the cupcake in front of him. It’s all chocolate, brightly coloured sprinkles and smells of pure calories but to Roman it’s perfect.   
“Make a wish?” She smiles at him. He returns it before closing his eyes and pausing for a moment as he silently makes one. When he opens them again, he inhales deeply before blowing it out at once. He takes the cupcake from her and removes the candle but not before licking the icing from the bottom and handing it to her.   
“I don’t know how you do it but these are always better than the catering company that we pay hundreds for.”  
“Home made always taste better than mass production.” She comments but inside she’s bursting with joy at his words. She’d tried many different recipes to try and get the best possible tasting one for him. It had taken many different batches, tweaking the ingredients and a lot of failed attempts and several injuries now mark her arms from where’s caught herself on the oven shelves as she’s pulled the cakes from them. She wanted it to be perfect for him.   
“You know I love you right?” She says.   
“Of course, I love you too.”  
  


She chews the inside of her lip as she watches him tuck into the cupcake, “I’d say you don’t look a day over 28 but….well…y’know, it’s not the case…” she pulls a face and tries to neutralize her expression.   
Roman stops mid-chew and frowns at her. ”Why is it not the case?” Her eyes keep drifting back to his hair and she tries not to get distracted.  
“Nothing. You know you’re good looking to me so it doesn’t matter.”   
His hand moves to his hair and he frowns again. “What doesn’t matter? What aren’t you telling me?”  
  
“I like the salt and pepper look. Y’know, many men go grey early and it doesn’t mean” Roman is off the bed before she can finish speaking, “you’re old. Just think of it as you’re a silver fox now.” She quickly finishes as he darts to the mirror and begins to turn his head this way and that way to look at his hair. His fingers begin to part the strands, his eyes scanning each new place.   
“Where? Where did you see it?”  
“Hmmm?” She feigns all innocence.   
“Baby, don’t play with me right now. Where did you see it?” he dips his head and keeps trying to look. “I can’t see in this light.” When he catches her eye in the mirror his face drops and he glares at her. “No, that’s not fair. It’s too early for this shit. It’s those kinda jokes that will give me a grey hair.” He launches himself from the mirror onto the bed. She’s not quick enough to move before his arms are around her waist and he’s tackling her to the bed. His fingers move to her waist and her ribs, the tips of them wiggling, digging into her spots to earn him a giggle. “Say you’re sorry,” Roman laughs along with her at the sound of her happiness. She can barely get her words out but he doesn’t stop, “say sorry.” Her legs thrash beneath him, her cheeks flush with heat as she goes silent, unable to laugh loudly anymore. Her fingers try to push his hands from her, unable to take it anymore but he doesn’t let up. He moves them to other places where he knows she has tickles and she looses it completely.   
Roman presses his hands flat against her skin, giving her a moment to get her breathing back before pressing his lips to hers. “I’ll accept that as an apology instead.”  
“Happy birthday,” she says again and in that moment, he realizes nothing he could ever wish for would be better than what he has right now.


	11. Coffee.

Word count:  **1227**  
Player:  **Jann-Fiete Arp**    
  
Apologies if he’s out of “character”. This is my first time writing him!

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She waits nervously in the small coffee shop, her hands alternating between gripping her cooling mug and smoothing down her jeans. He’s late. Much later than could be considered fashionably late. Her eyes drift around the small café, checking that he hasn’t actually arrived and thinks that she’s not turned up but no, he’s not here. Or at least, she doesn’t  _think_  he is.   
Her stomach continues to drop with each passing minute as she finally begins to accept that she really has been stood up. Taking a deep breath, she lifts the mug and drains its contents before standing up and gathering her things.   
“Excuse me?”   
  
She glances up and finds herself looking into a pair of pale eyes. Her mouth drops open slightly as she takes in the rest of his face. He runs a hand through his messy dark blonde hair and his plump lips curve into a smile.   
“Yes?” she asks.   
“I think it’s me you’re looking for.” He says then shakes his head, a slight blush creeps onto his cheeks at the corny line. “Sorry I’m late, I’m Jann.”  
  
She wants to say something but nothing comes to mind. When her friend said she had someone in mind for a blind date she had no idea that he would be so good looking. She’s stumped for words, her mouth is unable to form anything and instead of making a good impression, she’s left wondering if she’s just gawping at him.   
“You are waiting for me…right?” He’s suddenly embarrassed and looking around to see if there’s anyone else here who is waiting alone. There isn’t.   
“Yes. Sorry….I just…I wasn’t expecting you.”  
“Can I…?” he gestures to the seat and she nods, sitting herself down at the same time. “I want a drink and it looks like you’re out too, can I buy you one?” 

  
Grateful for the offer, she tells him her drink order and watches as he heads to the barista. She’d never been one for doing this. She wasn’t a blind date kinda girl and she hadn’t wanted to come today yet her friend had said how perfect she thought they’d be. She wouldn’t tell her how she knew him, or even his name because her friend knew she’d try to find him on social media. She knew a brief description of him but she hadn’t seen a photo either. It truly was a date where she had no idea who she was meeting. Of all the boys she could be set up with, he really was something incredible to look at though. She could hardly believe he was single and he seemed polite too which made a change from the boys she usually met.   
  
She watches as he approaches the table, his arms filled with a tray of drinks and some snacks.   
“I wasn’t sure what you liked so I thought I’d get a few things.” He explains as he places the tray and pushes her drink towards her.   
“Thank you Jann.”  
“My friends call me Fiete,” he comments, “if you want to.” She tries not to smile at the way he tries to put her at ease. “So how do you know our cupid?”   
“Well  _Fiete_ ,” she says with a little emphasis and he laughs, “I went to school with her. She’s always telling me I need to date. It’s easy when you’re loved up yourself. How do you know her?”  
“I met her through her boyfriend. She hasn’t changed one bit. She’s been pushing for me to find someone too.” He laughs nervously.   
“How old are you?” She finds herself asking. He pauses the hand that stirs her drink and gives her a confused look.   
“You don’t know how old I am?” He asks, then looks off to the side, “wait. What  _has_  she said about me?”

  
“She wouldn’t actually tell me anything.” She answers suddenly feeling embarrassed. “It was one of the reasons I was hesitant to accept the offer to come here.” He grins at her.   
“I’m 18. I like this though.” He adds as he sits back in his seat. “You know nothing about me. A clean slate. No expectations.”   
“Ok mystery guy. You’ve caught my attention. Tell me something about you.”  
“Well you know my name now and that I’m 18. I play football,” he pauses as he thinks of something else.   
“At the weekend?” he laughs at the comment and she suddenly feels insecure about it.   
“No, that’s my job. Sometimes it would be easy if it was just a weekend thing.”  
“You’re an actual footballer?” She asks, her eyes widening slightly. “Sorry, I don’t follow football to have known. I wouldn’t have thought you were though.” She reaches forward and picks at some of the food he’s purchased. She’d never really expressed an interest in the game before but maybe that’s why she was paired with him, because opposites attract.  
“Why is that?” curiosity gets the better of him and he watches her intently over the rim of his mug.   
“You seem nice.” Her eyes meet his for a moment before flickering away.   
“Footballers can’t be nice?”  
  
“I don’t know…I expected something more? Not in a bad way,” she quickly rushes it out.  _Shit, he’s never going to want to see me again. I’m such an idiot_. “You hear about them for example,” she tries again, “and it’s all for show isn’t it? Holidays, cars and models. Many of them cheat because they can and their wives stay with them. It’s a flash lifestyle, yet here we are in a coffee shop on a blind date. You’re polite, you seem really nice and down to earth and I don’t know, you don’t seem arrogant. You don’t fit the stereotype. I get that you’re young still but…”  
“Young still,” he laughs, “you can’t be much older than me. You don’t follow football but you know the lifestyle,” he teases.  
“I’m 19 soon,” she grins. “And just because I don’t have a team, that doesn’t mean I don’t read magazines.”   
“See! You’re still a baby too. I knew there was a flaw with you; you’re a tabloid junkie. I need to rethink this date,” he shakes his head but a smile remains on his face, only increasing when she throws some cake at him. “Sure, the lifestyle sounds great and all but if you’re a shitty person what does it matter what you have? You won’t have someone beside you that really matters.”  
“And is that what you want Fiete? Someone beside you that really matters?”   
“Isn’t it a dream we all have?”  
  
She holds his gaze and tries to work out if he’s being genuine. His expression is neutral, but his finger taps gently against his mug nervously. “Yeah, yeah I guess it is.”  
“How am I doing so far?” He runs his tongue over his lips, an action that grabs her attention immediately. She couldn’t believe someone so good looking could be so genuinely nice.   
“I’m pleased I came.”  
“I’m glad,” he smiles and takes another drink, “because I’m already trying to think what to do for our next date.”  
“You want to see me again?” she can’t hide her happiness, relief washes over her that her awkward rambles hasn’t scared him off.   
“Very much. You’re different and honest. I see why she suggested you for this. Now, lets talk about you…”


	12. Cooking Together.

Word count:  **990**.  
Player:  **Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain**.    

__________________

Alex could not cook.   
He knows it. She knows it. Everyone knows it but does he accept it? No, Alex does not.

She made one comment to him two weeks ago and it’s been playing on his mind ever since. It shouldn’t have made such a big impression but for some reason it had stuck.   
“ _Yeah you bring home the bacon but baby you can’t cook it. Or anything for that matter.”_

Sure, he had to hand it to her. She knew how to work that kitchen. She owned that kitchen. He’d never smelt or tasted anything so good in his life so he hadn’t needed to try and cook while she was in his life. He Alex also knew she was just playing around when she said it but he felt he had a point to prove. His male ego had taken a hard hit and he wasn’t about to let her continue thinking he wasn’t good at it.   
  
He’s pulled out her cook books. He’s skimmed over many of them. From fifteen minute meals to crock pot dinners. He knew he could produce something tasty in a crock pot but for him, it would now be cheating. He wasn’t against a good slow cooker meal but she’d specifically said he couldn’t cook so he needed to do this properly.

She leans against the counter, a glass of wine in her hand while she watches with amusement as Alex moves clumsily about the kitchen. His hands reach for anything. He cuts, preps and marinades. She sucks in her lips and tries not to laugh. Sauce is splodged everywhere, something smells like it’s burning and he keeps telling her that his “technique is unmatched”. 

  
“Have you seen anything like this babe?” he asks, flashing her his signature smile.   
“I can safely say absolutely not. I don’t think anyone has ever seen anything like this.”  
“Because not everyone has these skills that’s why.” He laughs, obviously pleased with himself as he throws the utensils in the air and catches them with ease. He jerks the pan, sending the contents spiraling around the center and he looks happy with what he’s doing. “Sit down, I’ll plate up. You sit down and wait for the best meal of your life to arrive.”  
“Why have you ordered in for later?”   
  
In too much of a good mood, he lets the comment slide as he turns around, his fingers hitting the docking system and turns up the music. She sits in the chair and watches as he works. He adds this and that to the plate, his body moving at all times as he dances to the song. She can hear he’s saying all the wrong lyrics but seeing Alex in such good spirits is something that she can’t disrupt by correcting him.

He throws the towel over his shoulder and shimmies over to her with both plates and a wide smile. She has to admit to herself that it doesn’t look too bad. Alex was a trier and she loved that about him. It didn’t matter what it was, when he turned his hand to it, he wanted to give it his best shot. The shelves in the house weren’t straight and not all of them could hold anything without falling off the walls but he tried. This meal may possibly give her food poisoning but he’s tried.   
  
She waits until he joins her at the table and he gestures to both plates.   
“Well? Did your man do well?”  
“It doesn’t look as bad as it could.” She replies, taking a long drink of the wine before placing the glass down. She picks up her knife and fork and wonders where to start. He immediately picks up his fork and begins to dig in. She watches his face as he pauses to work out what he thinks, she watches his eyes widen momentarily and a grimace appears before he pulls his expression back to normal and he works on chewing it.   
“It’s different.” He mutters with a mouthful.   
“Is it still the best meal of my life?” She smirks and stabs at it with her fork. She takes a deep breath and pops it into her mouth. The flavours are…interesting. They’re mashed together, each trying to override the last one. None of them mix well at all and the taste of burnt appears last. It was edible but she couldn’t say it was tasty.  
“I’m not saying I’m the next Ramsey…”  
“Good because he’d tell you to fuck off if you tried to serve him this.”  
“But it has potential to improve. And I’m all about getting better.” He waves his fork at her after depositing another large amount of food into his mouth.   
  


 _You can’t get any worse_ , she wants to say but chooses to copy him and take another mouthful instead. She’s not sure if it’s worse or better than the first mouthful but at least she’s used to the texture this time around.  
Alex grins at her as he scoops more onto his fork. “It’s awful isn’t it?”  
“I wouldn’t say that.” He raises his eyebrow at her, knowing she’s lying. “Ok so it’s not the best. My point still stands, you can’t cook. But I’m eating it. I’m thankful you’ve made me something.”  
“Nah babe,” he reaches across and grabs her plate, scoops it onto his and slips the plate beneath his. “We ain’t eating this.” He stands, crosses the kitchen, scrapes it all into the bin and turns to her. “You order something, I’ll clean up this mess.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“100%. I’m happy to lose this bet. I accept it, I can’t cook. Pick something nice for me.” He blows her a kiss before turning back to the sink and begins to fill the bowl with hot soapy water.   
Not many men could admit they were wrong but Alex knew his place and it wasn’t in the kitchen.


	13. Washing Dishes.

Word count:  **853**  
Player:  **Antoine Griezmann**.   

_______________________

They had a deal. When one cooked dinner, the other would do the dishes. No arguments. No IOUs.   
It’s a long-standing tradition between them and one that they both keep up, no matter where they are. If they’re at his family’s house, they’ll both wash and dry together.   
Antoine could be incredibly domesticated if he wanted to be. He’s been known when he’s annoyed to angry clean. He’s disappeared more times than she can count wearing yellow gloves as he tackles the bathrooms or the kitchen. And she has to admit that he does a remarkable I Want To Break Free impression as he hoovers throughout the house.

Tonight she’s cooked and even though he knows he needs to the dishes, he reaches out; his bones cracking as he contorts himself into strange shapes to stretch out his limbs before relaxing again. He wants to go lay on the sofa and make their evening plans.  
“Do I have to do the dishes?” he asks in a whiney child voice as he pouts at her; moving his plate away and rests his head on his arms on the table.   
“You don’t have to,” she begins and his head lifts, his eyes widen and he feels a ripple of hope that he may escape it, “but if you wanna be the first one to break the tradition…”  
“It’s not like breaking a mirror though is it? What happens if I break it?”  
“Do it and find out.” She comments as she clears away the table, scraping the plates as clean as possible before leaving them on the side. Of course, they have a dishwasher too, but that was predominately used if they have company over, like friends or his brother. Or when she went away, and Antoine left everything on the sides because he couldn’t be bothered to clean up after himself and would then do a panic clean the morning she was coming back.

“Is this like the rule you brought in; if I don’t shave my beard, you don’t shave a place of choice?”  
“You laughed at that rule when we watched the movie.”  
“Yeah but I didn’t expect you to go through with it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Your legs were nearly like mine. I almost shaved my own leg just to know what a smooth one felt like again.” He zones out, lost in thought at the memory.   
“First of all, it was winter and I needed all the extra warmth I could get,” she picks up the towel and whips him with it, “and secondly, you weren’t complaining when your pretend beard was keeping your jaw warm.”  
“What do you mean pretend beard?” He frowns at her, his fingers reaching up and stroking his stubbly cheeks. “I can grow a beard.” He protests.   
  
“Uh huh,” she runs the hot tap and squirts in some washing up liquid. Her hand dips into the bowl and she swirls it around. “Well you sit there, grow your patchy teen beard and I’ll take care of this.”  
“Oh I see,” she hears his chair scrape across the floor, “you think you can mock my beard and I’ll back away, only for you to lay in bed later and tell me how no-one ever helps around the house but because it’s only me and you here, you mean me without saying me.”  
She side eyes him without saying a word. That does sound like something she’d do.  _Shit, when did I turn into my mother?_ She thinks.

He appears at the side of her, bumps her out of the way with his hip and takes the space in front of the sink. He dips his hands into the water and immediately pulls them out, cursing loudly.   
“How hot do you have this?” he waves his hand about before blowing on it. Frowning, she puts her hand back in there and waits a few seconds.   
“It’s not that hot?”  
“My hand is throbbing and you’re standing there like it’s nothing. There’s a reason you come out of the bath looking like a lobster.”  
“It’s the only way to feel clean.” She turns on the cold tap and mixes the water around.

Cautiously, Antoine tests the water until he’s happy with the temperature and begins to fill the bowl with the cutlery. He begins to make quick work, his eyes firmly on the bowl of soapy water and each item as he lifts it to inspect he’s removed all the food from them. He turns his head to look at her as his hands continue to clean the cutlery. Taking an opportunity, she strokes the short facial hair and presses her lips to his. When she pulls away he smiles at her. Lifting his soapy hand, he boops her on the nose, leaving behind scented suds and a large smile on her face at his childish nature. She slips behind him, wraps her arms around his waist and places a kiss between his shoulder blades.   
Even doing something as simple as the house work, Antoine never fails to put a smile on her face.


	14. Homework and/or job work.

Word count:  **848**  
Player:  **Dele Alli**.   

Another player that this is a first for me in terms of writing. So I really hope that it’s ok!

__________________

Sighing, she wonders how she let it get this bad.   
She’d never been the type to procrastinate or do her work last minute and yet here she was, cramming in her studies the day before an exam and her brain would not take in any more information. She’d read the same page three times and not absorbed any of the information at all. Sitting back in her chair, she rubs her face and stares at the mess currently surrounding her.

Notebooks, stationary, a doodle pad, snacks, empty cups and takeaway boxes are scattered around her. She wonders how she’s even able to attempt to concentrate when her work space is so chaotic. The lock to her dorm room sounds making her jump immediately and pull her hoodie around her chest. The door opens and she feels herself relaxing when she spots who it is.   
“What are you doing here?” She smiles as she pushes away from the desk, grateful for the distraction in the form of her boyfriend.   
  
Dele pockets his car keys, her dorm room key attached to the ring of it and opens his arms for a hug. She gladly accepts, wrapping herself around him and nuzzles into his chest to breathe in his scent. Nothing calmed her quite like being close to him, her mind eases and she feels her muscles begin to loosen. She wasn’t even aware she’d been so tightly wound over the work until just now.   
“I thought you could do with some company. You sounded pretty down when I called earlier. So, I brought all your favourite snacks, your favourite take out and some drinks to keep you going.”

  
When she pulls away, she looks at him in awe. “I don’t deserve you.” Her stomach rumbles and despite the obvious mess surrounding them, she can’t remember when she actually last ate.   
“You do but right now you deserve food more. You sit down and eat, I’m….” he looks around in shock, wondering where to even start, “I’m going to tidy this up. There’s no way you can be thinking clearly living in this shit hole.”  
“Thanks,” she mumbles, feeling embarrassed. She always made sure to clean up before Dele would visit her but this was something else.   
“I dropped by out of blue, I wasn’t expecting spotless but babe, you’ve gotta look after your space. Where’s your bin liners?”   
  
She tells him in the kitchen down the hallway and he slips out of the room for a moment or two, returning triumphantly with several and some cutlery and a plate for her food. She accepts them, ripping into the takeout and tucks in.   
“I love how you take care of me.”  
“It’s my job.” He replies as he lights a candle for her and begins grabbing handfuls of empty bottles and cans to bag them.   
“Do you want some?” She offers after a few mouthfuls.   
“Nah I’m good.”  
“How long are you here for?” She stabs around at the food and watches as he works. Within minutes he’s already made a huge difference to the room. She’s not sure if it’s because he belly is being filled but she feels less stressed and more comfortable with each passing moment.   
“I can stay the night. I have to be back by tomorrow afternoon though because we’ve got an evening training session. I missed you though and you sounded stressed. I thought this would cheer you up.”  
“It has. Actually, pass me that open book please.” She gestures with her hand and Dele grabs it for her. “You could help me with some of this. A lot is common sense but some of it would be good with a male perspective. If you want to help me?”  
  
Dele grins at her, drops the bag by the door and joins her on the bed.  
She alternates between eating and going through what she’s studying with him. He grabs her notepad, several pens and makes notes as she talks. He adds his opinions, his thoughts and his own input to how the situation could be impacted by the topic. They bounce off each other’s sentences. She was right, he was adding a lot of valuable perspectives that she hadn’t considered before and was quickly writing them down, trying to get as much of the detail as possible. Short hand would not do in this case.

Satisfied she’s covered enough she puts the books aside, removes her hoodie, pulls back the duvet and climbs in whilst encouraging Dele to do the same. Instead, he strips down to his shirt and boxers and then joins her. He envelopes her in a cuddle and presses his lips to her shoulder.   
Despite it only being a couple of weeks since she last saw him, it feels much longer since they were last able to do this.   
“Thank you for being here. I really needed you without even knowing it.”  
“If you struggle, I struggle. You’ve always supported me so I’ll do the same. I just can’t wait to see my baby graduate and you better believe I’ll be there.”


	15. Family Visits.

Word count:  **879**  
Player:  **Emre Can**.   

__________________

“Emre I can’t sit in that car again,” she’d complained when the idea of her parents wanting to meet her newest boyfriend arose. “My ass aches just thinking about it.”  
“I’m saying nothing about your butt, though what I will say is we don’t have to visit them though surely? Can’t they come to us on this occasion?” Emre knew that it was his girlfriend to mainly visit her parents home and they rarely came to her. It frustrated him to see, especially as he knew how much she missed them for her to get so little time with them.  
Emre planned to change this. He wanted her to spend some good quality time with her family and while she hadn’t been so happy on the idea of going to see them, he made sure that she was fully on board with them coming out to see her.   
  
“I don’t even know why I’m so nervous about seeing them. I just want them to like you.” She huffs as she paces through the house for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon.   
“Baby, baby stop.” He holds out his hand and grabs her wrist. “You’re going to work a hole in the floor if you keep moving like this. Come here,” he pulls her onto his knee and holds her in place. “It’s your parents. What’s the worst they could do?”  
“Hate you?”  
“And?” He raises an eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s family hated. Despite his cool exterior, he really wanted them to like him. He’d seen his barber just that morning for a fresh trim and a beard shape up. He’d gone out and bought more clothes. Anything to try and look his best. Emre had practiced in front of the mirror while she was out. He practiced his lines to them. Different greetings and different smiles. He watched his expressions as he spoke. How would he look to them? Cold? Too friendly?

He was driving himself crazy with anxiousness. The truth was, her family weren’t the first parents he’d met, but for him they were the most important. They’d been dating for several months and even though he believed he’d been in love before, it was nothing compared to how he felt with her. At first he felt as though he was drowning in his feelings for her. He felt that it was all too much and despite his instinct to flee, he stayed exactly where he was.

She soothed away his worries. Kissed him better when he fretted and made him feel like he truly was complete. It was both the most incredible feeling in the world and also the most scary. He was suddenly worried that she could walk away and take away everything he felt was right. He knew he was falling head over heels for her but he can’t say anything. Not yet. And so despite his coolness, he’s shitting it inside that they really would hate him.   
“And if they hate you then what am I supposed to do?”  
“You tell me, you’re the one in this situation.”  
“Not yet I’m not.” She runs her fingers through her hair and sighs. “I think they’ll love you Em, I really do but I’m worried.”  
“If you think they’ll like me then why are you worried?”  
  
She turns to look at him, her hands cup both sides of his neck and she opens her mouth to say something before closing it again. She can’t just spit the words out that she wants. She can’t say it so casually. She can’t say “ _I love you_ ” just because she’s sitting on his knee and staring into his eyes  _and_  it’s absolutely the right moment to say it. She just can’t.   
The moment passes and she feels her stomach drop. Admitting her feelings didn’t come easy to her. It wasn’t something that she could rush, especially when she wasn’t even 100% sure how he felt either. Sure, she’d catch his lingering stares, the way he’d smile after he looked away from her and he’d hold onto her that little bit longer. Sure she felt his smile against her lips as they kissed and how he took the time to get to know her likes, her passions and her desires; both in and out of the bedroom but that did not mean she knew how he felt.

  
“There’s always that chance.” She bites on her lip.  
“And what if they do hate me? Then what?”  
“Then they’ll have to deal with it.” She concludes and kisses him lightly, “because I’m not letting you go.”  
“Ever?” He asks with a huge smile.   
“Not now, not ever.”  
“I think I can handle that.”  
“I don’t think so.” She scrunches her face up and shakes her head.  
“Why?”  
“You can’t even dress yourself,” she says with a laugh. “Your shirt is inside out. Your tag is on the outside. Come on, you’ve got half an hour before they’re gonna get here, let’s get you dressed.”   
“If we have half an hour…I say we take this upstairs, de-stress and you can help dress me correctly…” he nips at her neck, his tongue soothes the spot immediately causing her breath to hitch.   
“I think I can agree to that…”


	16. Something New

Word count:  **678**  
Player:  **Marcus Rashford**.  

I’d struggled a little with what to write about so this was an idea by an anon! Thank you bb.  
 _Maybe they could be like a very chilled couple that would spent the night in but they “try” goin out with Jesse and his friends and one of them (or both) gets really drunk? Just a suggestion_

__________________

Marcus loved the lads, really, he did.   
He was all for the banter in training, in the dressing room and when they travelled. He loved spending time with them and their company but he loved coming home to his girlfriend more. The two of them had a pretty simple relationship. Hardly any arguments and if they did, it was never over anything serious. Usually it’s just tempers getting the better of them over something small and he’s relieved they’re easy to resolve.

He’d intended to come home, shower, have something nice to eat and just relax with her. She hasn’t been around as often as he’d like this week and he’s missed her. He couldn’t say this to his teammates, they already criticize him for being whipped, under the thumb and pretty much married. He didn’t see it as a bad thing. He was still Marcus underneath it all, she just made him better and if that made him whipped then so be it.

He’d cooked for them, she’d loaded the dishwasher and finally sitting down he’d looked over the influx of messages he’d received.   
“What are you shaking your head at?” she asked as she entered the room and joined him on the sofa. She sat at the other end and placed her feet on his lap. Pulling a face, he tried to knock them from his body but she held them in place with glee.   
“Jesse wants us to go out tonight.”  
“And you’re saying no why?”  
“I wanna spend time with you.” He replied, looking up at her. “I’ve hardly seen you so why would I go out with them?”  
“Why not?” She’d shrugged. “I don’t mind if you do.”  
“I wasn’t looking for permission. I just don’t want to. Anyway, he’d invited you too.” Marcus returned her shrug and began typing his message to decline.   
“Why don’t we?” The words shocked her when she heard them. “We never do anything out of the norm and this could be fun?”  
It had taken the next hour to get Marcus on board with the idea and for them to get ready.   
He booked a taxi and got them there quickly before he could change his mind.

She was right to encourage him out and he was enjoying himself much more than he thought. What started off with him only having one pint has quickly escalated. She’s made eyes at him all night, something that hasn’t gone unnoticed by Marcus. He’s tried to remain discreet but he knows that look. He knows the alcohol is slowly loosening her up and the smile she keeps giving him lets him know exactly what’s on her mind.  They’ve laughed, joked and danced with each new round of alcohol. They’ve taken endless photos, snapchat videos, boarded the Jäger train and left the station.  
  
“I really, really love you,” she slurs as they stagger home.   
“I really, really love you too,” he replies, tripping over his own feet. Despite being drunk, her reflexes are still quick and she catches him. His weight almost takes her down with him but she manages to stay upright.   
“Do you?”   
“Yep.”  
“How much?” She squints at him as she tries to focus.  
“More than the seats at Old Trafford.”   
“Around the pitch or inside too?”   
He looks at her and loses his thoughts as he also struggles to think and see straight. “Don’t make me try and count right now. But it’s a lot.” She wants to argue she never asked him to count but seeing him relaxed and carefree, albeit drunk, is a good sight. He’s been agitated lately, and he needed something to take his mind off things. While getting him blind drunk may not be the best decision, it’s been a good evening and one that she hopes to remember.   
She knows she’ll regret drinking so much in the morning and makes a mental note to get a glass of water for the both of them when they get in. They may suffer tomorrow but for now, she’s happy they’ve tried something new.


	17. Kisses.

Word count: 1541  
Player:  **Rafinha Alcatara**.  

__________________

 

Jealousy.  
______

He hadn’t thought of himself as a jealous person before but something about the way others looked at her really stirred something inside of him. She hadn’t noticed the looks she received nor had she reciprocated them but  _he_  knew and that’s what mattered. Rafinha tried not to let it get to him but the more he thought about it, the more he became agitated.   
“What’s wrong?” she’d asked but he’d failed to reply straight away.  
“Look can we just get out of here?” He’d finally said minutes later, his fingers pulled at the neck of his shirt and he swallowed hard.   
“No, we’ve only been here an hour. What’s got into you?”   
She looked so beautiful, she really did. She looked it every day to him but tonight, knowing how desired she was by others, it only increased his attraction.   
  
He pulled her away from others, his fingers at the crease of her arm and guided her out of the room. Once away from others, he brushed his hand over her cheek and pulled her hips towards him with his other hand. She instantly knew, she’d seen that look before and angled her face towards him.   
His nose touched hers, his lips brushed against her so gently she almost didn’t feel them.   
“You’ve been driving me crazy all night.” He whispered. “Other men looking at you? Wanting you the way I do? I wasn’t prepared to feel like this but I do.” He placed the lightest of kisses, his eyes remained open while he watched her expression.

* * *

 

He nibbled her bottom lip, tried to hide his smile when she moved her body against his before sucking it into his mouth. When a groan escaped her mouth, he released it and kissed her finally. The neediness of it caused their teeth to clash together but neither seemed to care. He was hers and he wanted no other man to make him feel insecure, to make him feel threatened or unworthy of standing by her side.   
  
She held him in place, her hand gripped the short hair at the back of his head and she kissed him hard. Her tongue slipped past their lips, mixed with his and took everything that he offered to her. He kissed her with everything that she did. Jealousy wasn’t a trait she liked but on Rafinha? It suited him.

 

 

I want sex kisses  
______

He’s pinned her body to the mattress, his erection grinding between her legs as he kisses and nibbles at her neck. Her eyes roll back, her lips part and her breathing becomes heavy. She’s not long since woken up, she’s not even sure what time it is but at this moment she really doesn’t care. She can feel the outline of the head of his dick through the soft cotton of both her panties and his boxers. It rubs against her core and she bites her lip, remembering oh too well how it feels when it slips inside of her.   
“Rafa,” she moans softly. His head lifts, his eyes have darkened, and his lips are wet from the open mouthed kisses he was placing over her pleasure points. She cups his face and pulls his lips to hers. She kisses him eagerly, embarrassingly so as something stirs within her belly. She finds her hips beginning to move against him, needing some friction of her own to match his.   
He groans into her mouth, giving her an opportunity to deepen the kiss. His tongue teases hers, applying just the right amount of pressure that has her wanting both more and wanting to push him away because it’s too much.   
She hates being teased and unless he was planning to take this further, she’d need to call this off right now. He continues to kiss her in exactly the same way as his hips gently presses himself to her core.   
“Are you going to do something about that or do I need a shower to cool down?”  
He pulls away and grins down at her, “I thought you’d never ask.”

 

 

Rushing out of the door kisses  
______

Depending on what kind of morning they’ve had, they will either have time to sit down together for either a drink or a breakfast but the end result is always the same. No matter if they’ve argued, had a good morning or a rushed one, they will always give each other a kiss and say they love each other. Especially if they’ve argued. Rafinha makes it a rule, neither of them go to bed angry with the other and they always say I love you.   
  
This morning, they’re rushing. They’ve both over slept, they’re both definitely late and the shared shower they had this morning was not one that wet dreams are made of. While it did save time, it wasn’t one that they usually enjoy.   
She pulls her clothes on, the fabric sticks to her still damp skin making it that much harder to pull her trousers up her thighs. Her blouse doesn’t want to cooperate and she’s almost tempted to call in sick just to stop herself from turning up like the mess she currently is.   
Rafinha is downstairs, pulling her lunch from the fridge into a go back and prepares a quick breakfast-on-the-go. By the time she’s staggered downstairs, toothpaste drying on her chin, he’s waiting by the door. He licks his thumb, rubs the toothpaste off, puts the bag into her hand and kisses her on the lips.   
“I’m cooking tonight. Don’t be late. I love you.”

 

 

Morning baby kisses  
______

They’re both sleepy, curled into one another with her head in his chest and his face in her hair. He used to mind. He used to make a big deal out of it and blow it out of his face but now he finds it quite cute. He smiles to himself when it tickles his nose and he breathes in the scent of her shampoo. Before her, he’d roll his eyes at the idea of being the type of guy to hold his girl and just breathe her in but this is exactly what he does.   
She moves, snuggling into him tighter and he feels her sigh happily.   
“Do we have to move today?” She asks, her voice thick with sleep.   
“Not if you don’t want to.” He replies, trying to keep his eyes closed but not wanting to fall back asleep.   
  
He grins when he feels her kiss his beard, tracing her lips along his jaw until he looks down at her and she’s able to kiss where she’s been wanting to since he woke her up. Her lips meet his and rather than the rushed kisses she’s had lately, it’s slow, loving and tender.   
She finds herself melting into it, their lips barely parting, barely pulling away from the kiss before they touch again. She feels him exhale through his nose, a careful steady stream of hot air blows over her face and she applies a little more pressure. Not enough to cause a stirring within her but enough to say what she can’t vocally.   
 _I love you._

 

 

Long-lingering-feeling-it-in-your-toes kisses.   
________

She straddles Rafinha’s lap.   
He’s finally said it. Finally said “I love you.”   
It’s not like she hadn’t anticipated it, she felt it from him a long time but something about the way he’d said it and how he’d held himself, it was pure fear that she wouldn’t feel the same too.   
She had no words, she’d muttered them back and climbed onto him. It wasn’t graceful nor was it romantic. She couldn’t find what she wanted to say to him, what she’d been thinking of saying to him for weeks now and so she kissed him instead.   
  
He cups her jaw with one hand and grips her waist with her other. He holds her in place just so, with enough force to hold her there but not enough that she couldn’t get away. Not that she’d want to. Their lips move against each other, it’s not desperate, fast or needy but it’s not slow or lacking. He strokes her jaw with his thumb, he nibbles her lip occasionally breaking the kiss to do so before picking up exactly where they left off.   
  
If she moaned he’d deepen it, mixing his tongue with hers if she wanted it. When she pulled back slightly, he kisses her tenderly. He took control easily and gave her exactly what she needed and today is no exception. Rafinha allows her to lead momentarily. She takes over, her mouth working against his perfectly. She’d never known anyone match her so well, when she moved like this he moved like that.   
  
Her belly tightens, a knot both tightens and relaxes depending on how he kisses her. It flares up with heat, sends tingles throughout her and warms her from her head to her toes. It seems to melt her muscles, dissolves her against him and rebuild her in the next breath. He ignores his hardening cock and he focuses on her. Not once does he pull the attention away from her and it was enough to make her want to smile. She’d never been in love before but with Rafinha it was effortless.


	18. Hugs.

Word count:  **914**  
Player:  **Marcus Rashford**.  

__________________

Everything about the day was shit.   
She’d been made to feel five years old again by another student in one of her classes and was then ridiculed by a member of public during her shift. She hated working in retail. Absolutely despised it. She hated the way people spoke down to her and her co-workers, she hated the term “the customer is always right” because they absolutely were not and she hated the way people would mess up the displays and demand for a clean shirt; despite her watching them drop another one on the floor with no concern for the next person to pick it up.   
  
Between being exhausted from her classes and the ill feelings towards her job role, all she wanted was to go home and go to her room, climb into bed and hibernate. Living with her parents sucked but it cost far too much to move out and she wasn’t in a position to be able to just yet. She’d been checking her phone for updates from Marcus’s game and was upset to find he’s been sent off. Today was neither of their day.   
  


 ** _I’m sorry x_**  she text him as she got on the bus and took a seat. It was quiet for this time of night and she found it almost eerily so. Usually town would be busy and the bus would have more than the four, including her, on it but not tonight.   
 ** _you’ve got nothing to say sorry for. Have a good night._**  The reply came through quickly, signaling the end of the conversation. She’d sat back in the bus seat and rested her head against the steamed up bus window.  _Thanks Marcus, my day was shit too,_ she thought and stuffed the phone into her pocket.

\--

Jumping off the bus, she thanks the driver and heads down the street towards her house. He hasn’t messaged her since and she feels guilty for thinking of herself and not how he would be feeling following his red card. She knows he gets tense on game days and she hadn’t been in the best of moods this morning when he text her. Further guilt pangs at her. It wasn’t like her to only think of herself, she’s usually much more considerate towards her boyfriend but tonight, she just wants a little consoling.

She pushes open the door, slips her shoes off and hangs up her coat. Her parents are in the living room watching some late evening game show. They call out and say hi as she climbs the stairs and she replies back. She has revision but the way the customer spoke to her earlier keeps ringing in her head. The rudeness of her and the way the woman looked her up and down. She’d never make someone else feel that way. She couldn’t understand why she’d let the woman get under her skin so much this evening but it had.

She shoves open her bedroom door and flicks on the light before jumping slightly at the figure on the bed.   
“Marcus.” She whispers. “wh-what are you doing here?”  
“I had a bad day.” He shrugs. It wasn’t uncommon for her to stay over at his and he’d made a good impression with her parents that they’d allowed him to stay at theirs occasionally too,  _s’long as there’s no funny business,_  her dad had instructed. She removes her work shirt, slips out of her trousers and into her night shirt and shorts. He pulls the duvet back and snuggles into her when she climbs in. “I just needed to see you.” He says.   
“Me too. You’re not the only one who had a bad day.”  
“Yeah but the world wasn’t watching you have yours though.”  
He nuzzles her shoulder and sighs, his arm tightening around her as he presses himself to her back even more. They lapse into silence for a few minutes, just appreciating having the other there.   
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks.   
“Not really. There’s not much to say is there? It’s done now and I feel pretty shit about it. Being here is what I needed. Your mum even plated me some dinner.” She feels his smile against her skin and she grins.   
“She likes to feed you.” It was true. Her mum had taken a real liking to Marcus and his politeness. When her mum knew he was coming round, it was always conveniently the night she just so happened to be making his favourite meal. Every time.   
“She said I was looking skinny.”  
“Yeah, you’re all skin and bone.” She agrees. “Is Jesse not looking after you?” she can almost hear his jaw clench.   
“Why have you gotta bring him up when we’re having a nice moment?”  
“Scared I’ll get jealous?”  
“You should be.”  
She turns to look at him, a smile plays on her lips. “Then why are you in my bed not his?”  
“He doesn’t tuck me in the same as you. And he doesn’t save me dinner like your mum.”  
“You didn’t know she would tonight…” she trails off. “She didn’t even know you were coming, so how did you have some?”  
Marcus grins at her, “I needed it more than you. Call it payback for always stealing my chips.” He laughs as she slaps his arm. The sound of him giggling was exactly what she needed and the feel of his arms around her helped her to forget everything from the day.


	19. Forgotten Something.

Word count: 1,072  
Player:  **Matteo Guendouzi**.  

 

_A/N SO SORRY!! I'm in the process of moving houses (I move tomorrow) and so I've been prioritizing packing/cleaning over writing. Hoping to finish these all before the month is out. I hope this still counts!_

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“ _Come with me to England._ ” He’d asked her.  
 _“I can’t up and leave. What about my family and friends, and my job?”_  
 _“It’s the same for me. I’m leaving them behind too.”_  
“ _Your job means you’ll probably move, you signed up to this_.” She’d tried to reason.   
“ _That doesn’t make it easier for me having to move away from everyone too. You knew this when we started dating. You had to know it may come to me moving away at some point?_ ” He’d frowned at her, unable to believe that she would be able to walk away from this so easily.   
 _“I didn’t mean it would be easy for you but you accepted this a long time ago that you wanted this career and all of the things that comes with it. I’ve only known you a year, this is a big deal and a lot to take in. Of course I knew, I didn’t expect you to stay with the same club but another country?”_ She’d ran her hand through her hair, her heart beating wildly against her chest as she struggled to take this news in. What was harder? Moving away or life without Matteo? __  
“Promise me you’ll think about this?”  
She had.   
  
____

She’s nervous.   
The table was set. The gifts for him that she agonized over what to buy have been carefully wrapped and are hidden away so he couldn’t find them. His favourite meal was cooked and she’s done everything she can to try and make tonight perfect. Their second year anniversary. She’s spent the day at the hairdressers and beauticians to look her best. She may even be bold enough to say she felt sexy. Matteo always told her she was beautiful, he lit up when she was around and always kissed her knuckles as he held her hand. She didn’t need to do anything else but she wanted to. She found a lot of the time, her clothes, waxes and trips to the spa were for herself, not for what he would think.

Even with her trips to pamper herself that she took every couple of months, she paid for everything herself. They’d moved in together upon his arrival to England and though it had taken a big adjustment for the two of them; though they quickly found they worked well living together. She was able to find a job quickly, some seasonal work lead to a permanent position and she found she loved the fast-paced environment. There were always stories to tell him when he came home, and he adored how well she had settled in.

If they could make it through this year of huge changes, she had no concerns for the rest of their relationship. The gifts she picked out were a mixture of things that she knew he’d love and more heartfelt ones. She’d included a photo album that she’d put together of their relationship so far and had hoped that there would be many more memories to capture.   
  
Only, now she wasn’t so sure. His words were ringing in her ears. “So what’s the occasion?”  
“Occasion?” She’d repeated, her voice a little higher than normal.   
“Yeah? My favourite dinner, your hair is different too and that looks like a new dress? You look beautiful.” He grins at her, the smile faltering slightly when she doesn’t return it so he chooses to begin to scoop his food onto his fork and begins to eat instead. “But seriously, what am I forgetting? You still have that look…”  
“Nothing,” she forces a smile, swallows down the lump that’s building in her throat and tries to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. He’s forgotten their anniversary. Was it really such a big deal? Is she making this into a bigger deal than it has to be? She thinks back to their first. How he’d arrived first thing that morning with presents and kisses and had taken her out for the day. They hadn’t even done much, it wasn’t money that was spent but that he made the effort with her on that day. He’d definitely remembered last year with no prompts from her to do so.   
Maybe she was expecting too much.   
  
She pushes the food around her plate, her stomach seems to be dropping further with each passing minute. She knows she should eat but her appetite is slipping away.  
“Actually yes,” she says suddenly, surprising herself too. “Today is our anniversary, even if you’ve forgotten. It’s ok though, I don’t mind. You’ve been busy.”  
Matteo’s expression changes, he stops chewing and his fork almost slips from his grasp. Just because he has, doesn’t mean that she should pretend she has too. She still loves him, she’s still bought him gifts and wanted a nice evening because she wanted to do those things for him, not to get something in return. She shouldn’t hide that away until he reciprocates. If he reciprocates. Finally accepting this makes it easier. He opens his mouth to say something but she shakes her head. “truly, it’s ok if you’ve forgotten.”   
“No it’s not OK.” He runs a hand through his curls and sucks in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.”  
“It’s fi-”  
“No it’s not fine. Don’t make excuses for me. I need a minute ok?” Matteo pushes away from the table and curses himself as he leaves the room.

“You stupid woman.” She hisses at herself. He’d been in a good mood and she had to open her big stupid mouth to ruin it. She hears him upstairs and reaches for the glass before taking a long deep drink.   
“Can you forgive me?” She jumps at the sound of his voice, wondering how she didn’t hear him come back down but grins when she turns to looks at him. He stands near the corner of the kitchen diner, helium balloons by his side, a bouquet of flowers gripped in one hand and a perfectly wrapped box in the other.   
“You didn’t forget?” She finds her voice, touched by the incredible surprise and wonders where he managed to hide the balloons.   
“Of course not,” He moves carefully, not wanting to drop anything. He places the box beside her, the flowers on the countertop and pulls the balloons next to her. “You’re my baby and I wouldn’t ever forget you. I love you.”  
She grins again, presses her lips to his and says “I love you too.”


	20. A Heated Argument.

Word count:  **1,371**  
Player:  **Roman Burki**.   

I decided to use one of the requests from the upcoming for this, even though I wasn’t going to!  
  
 _Can i request an imagine with roman burki? That he feel upset bcs dortmund defeat so when he arrive at home, he yell at his little daughter and wife and he realized its wrong and apologize in a cute way?? Thankyoouu❤️_

_______

_I’m not back fully yet. Hoping to have the challenge uploaded though before September is finished._

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Not wanting to take their young daughter to another game just yet, she’d opted to stay at home. The last time they took her, the crowd had been a little too much and she’d become scared, agitated and unsettled with lots of tears. Even though they were in their own box, Roman had refused to let them in the stands, it had still left an impression and she hadn’t wanted to risk it again.   
  
After the result of the game, she was pleased she’d made this decision. Trying to console Roman after such a hard 4-1 loss would be too much. He’d want to travel home by himself, gather his thoughts and come home for some consoling. That she could do. That she knew how to do. Of course, she’d read Roman’s mood first and take it from there.   
  


She’d watched the match in the kitchen with the TV on as she cooked; something Roman didn’t usually like as he wanted family meals and dinner time to be between the family that sat in the room, not with distractions in the form of the TV. It was a luxury she didn’t often manage to get and so she took advantage of it fully.

  
She’d groaned, hidden her face and wondered how she was going to try and make it up to him. Tonight was not going to be a good one, this she knew. She’s bathed their daughter and is in the middle of giving her some supper when she hears the car pull up and the crunch of the gravel as Roman approaches the front door.

She chooses to remain silent but their daughter climbs down from her seat and runs towards the door with excitement.   
“Daddy!” she squeals, happy to see him before she goes to bed. It’s not something that happens a lot and she loves the night time routine the two of them do have when he is home.   
“Not now baby,” his wife hears him say. While his tone isn’t nasty but it’s certainly off.   
“Today me and mommy went to the park. We had fun but we didn’t come to the game because it’s too loud.”  
“Yeah I know you didn’t.” She swallows hard. It sounded more of a dig at her than a simply statement or reply to their child.   
“But we had fun tonight. Mommy let me help cook an-”  
“I said not now.” Roman’s tone changes, there’s more bite there and it raises the hairs on the back of her neck with the way he easily speaks to her in this way when she’s being nothing but good. She’s off her chair quickly and tries to get to where they are quickly. 

  
“Hey baby,” she says reaching their daughter, “why don’t I take you upstairs and I’ll read you a bedtime story?”  
“But that’s mine and daddy’s time.”  
“I know my beautiful girl but your father isn’t in a good mood tonight”  
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here.” She hears him say.   
“And because he’s not in a good mood, I thinks it’s best I do this.”  
“I said don’t tal-”

“Roman.” She finally looked him in the eye. The venom in her voice in the single word is enough to halt him in his tracks.

  
She takes their daughters hand and leads her towards her bedroom.   
“Mommy?”   
“Yes?” She pulls back the bedding and the little girl climbs in.   
“Have we done something wrong? Did I upset daddy?” She looks up at her, her eyes wide with childish innocence and child-like concern. She was old enough to understand some things but not the reasons why.    
“He’s just upset because his team didn’t win today. It’s nothing we did.”  
“Should we have gone and put his number on? He likes that.” She says sadly.   
“Baby, don’t ever feel bad. If going there is a scary place for you, we’ll not go for a little while. Daddy does like it, but it’s not our fault OK?” She touches the little girl’s cheek tenderly as her lip begins to wobble.

Throughout the reading of the story, she couldn’t stop her mind wandering to Roman’s behaviour. While she understands the loss isn’t good, that it’ll have hurt Roman’s pride to have allowed so many in and also anticipates the way the negative fans would react, it was no excuse for him to take his feelings out on the two of them. She reads the book patiently, animatedly and uses different voices to make her daughter laugh and in places she succeeds.   
Stroking her soft hair from her face, his wife kisses their little one on her forehead, tucks her in and says goodnight. As she clicks the door closed, she turns and jumps slightly, not expecting Roman to be stood leaning against the wall.

Glaring at him, she says nothing and heads downstairs instead.   
“I’m sorry.”  
“For what?” She’s abrupt with him as she begins to rinse off the pots and pans and loads them into the dishwasher.   
“For snapping at you.”  _At you_. At his words, she spins on her heel and gives him the dirtiest look she can muster.   
“I don’t give a shit about me. You made her feel like she’d done something. She even asked what she’d done to upset you. A four year old Roman.”  
“I di-”  
  
“No, shut up and listen to me. You can come home and be pissed off. You can take it out on me as much as you want. You can give me the silent treatment and sulk. Do whatever you want to me but don’t you dare make that girl feel like she’s done something to you when all she wanted to do is talk about her day to you.” The gates had opened, the filter was removed and everything was pouring out. She still managed to keep her voice low, not wanting her to hear her parents arguing. That was one thing they’d agreed on early on. No matter how mad they were at each other, they wouldn’t let her see it. And tonight, Roman had broken that rule. “You didn’t care though did you? Snapping at her? You only hated the fact that I completely blanked you.”  
“I needed some sym-”  
  
“You  _needed_  to say hello to your child. You  _needed_  to address us as a family.” She slams the dishwasher closed and finally turns to look at him. “You say you needed sympathy and yet you behaved like a…well I can’t even say child because she’s proven she’s bigger than that.” She watches him deflate. When he looks back up at her, she sees his sorry expression. It’s his “I’m-genuinely-sorry” one, one that she’s seen many times.  
“I was thinking of myself and what I needed, not of you two. I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for making her feel that way. I know,” he breaks off to silence her with a finger, “I’ll have to say it to her in the morning myself. I’ll make pancakes and do the unicorn ones she likes and add sprinkles and cream and chocolate sauce and I’ll even let her watch TV in here. I don’t expect you to say sorry on my behalf.”   
“Good because you also know I wouldn’t.”  
“Oh too well.” He tries a smile, one that grows when it is returned. She’s softening and he knows it. “How can I make it up to you? I snapped at you too and I’m not sure unicorn pancakes would work in the same way.”  
“Maybe not but it’s a good start. I want extra chocolate sauce.”  
“You’ll get extra, extra chocolate sauce and I’ll take the morning shift with her so you can sleep in. And, to say I really am sorry, I’ll even let you do that thing you wanted me to do.”   
Her eyes widen at his words as they sink in. “What,  _the_  thing?”  
“Uh huh.”  
“You must be feeling sorry.” She raises an eyebrow.   
“I shouldn’t have spoken to my girls like that. Just don’t tell anyone I’m letting you do this.”  
“Why? So I don’t take away your street cred? The famous Roman Burki watches The Notebook.”  
“I’m not crying.”  
“You will. Come on, lets go.”


	21. Road Trips.

Word count:  **564**  
Player:  **Loris Karius.**  
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Loris had been excited when he’d bound into their bedroom, woken her up with kisses, caffeine and lots of energy. He’d woken up early, filled with excitement and planned everything out. He headed to the 24/7 open shop and gathered everything that he knew they’d want.   
For every road trip needs it’s snacks and drinks to keep them going. He’d looked on the maps and planned out where they could stop for an actual meal and knew roughly how long it would take both with and without traffic.

She’d said a few months ago that she’d always wanted to just get up and jump in the car to go somewhere. “anywhere. It doesn’t even matter. Sometimes I just wanna open up a map and randomly place my finger and go there.”  
The words had echoed in his mind and he couldn’t shake them.   
  
During the end of season break, quickly came around and while they were jetting off to America shortly, he wanted to do this while he could. He hadn’t wanted to just pick a random place, but somewhere he knew they’d be comfortable going to that was far away enough to make a weekend of it. He’d called by Starbucks on his way home from the store and grabbed some pastries, breakfast rolls, hot drinks and woken her. 

  
“What are you doing?” She’d croaked, her voice still thick with sleep and her eyes refusing to open. “Baby it’s too early. Leave me to sleep.”  
“You can sleep in the car if you want, but to stick to schedule we’ve gotta go now.”  
“Go where?” This had peaked her attention and she couldn’t help but ask.   
“Get dressed.” He’d grinned and circled the drink under her nose, allowing the aroma of it to pull her from her lingering slumber and out of the bed.

They’d been on the road for three hours before pulling over, using the services toilets and grabbing something else to eat.   
“Sometimes all you need is a greasy burger,” she’d declared while waving a ketchup covered fry at him.  
“Oh do you?” She’d nibbled the end of it off and dunked it in his milkshake. “You’re disgusting.”  
“Loris hun. I’m feeding the heart. The heart wants what it wants and right now, it’s French fries in your milkshake. Deal with it.”  
“Why can’t it be in yours? It’s the same flavor.”  
“Yours tastes better because it’s now forbidden.” She managed to swipe another bit before he moved his glass with a grin. “Thank you for doing this. I’d forgotten I’d said anything but you didn’t. That makes me smile.”  
“I’d do anything to see your smile, you should know that by now.”  
“Except give me your milkshake for my fries,” she pouted at him. With a roll of his eyes, Loris slid his glass nearer to her again. She grinned and dunked once more. “Losing it’s appeal now I can have it. I appreciate the gesture though.”  
Loris laughed. If anything, even though they’ve already got lost twice taking the scenic routes through small villages, spending this time with her has been worth it. It’s these times that he’ll remember. These moments when he’s away in hotels and unable to see her. It’s these smiles, jokes and her playfulness that he’ll miss.   
While the early morning was a killer to do, being here and doing this made it worthwhile.


	22. Picnics.

Word count: 1142  
Player:  **Yann Sommer.**

 _This pretty much wrote itself. I have no idea where it came from but I hope you like it. Nervous again as it’s yet again, someone I’ve never written before but I hope it’s enjoyed :)_  
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Yann knew early on in their relationship that something was different.   
He’d never shied away from previous relationships, he’d given everything in them, given the girl everything he could possibly give but nothing felt right. It wasn’t her, no it was never the girl that was the issue. It wasn’t the kisses, the cuddles, the sex or the love. But something wasn’t right. They fit well but not perfectly. His heart had swelled with love when he looked at them but he didn’t feel complete. Not in the way others had said they had. He didn’t look at them and know that’s who he would be spending his life with.

And Jann had accepted that. He was 29 and still young. He wasn’t desperate to find “the one” that everyone seems to strive towards. He wasn’t worried he’d never find the person that fit him perfectly though he hoped he would. He had a lot in his life to keep him occupied and happy. He didn’t  _need_  to feel loved though he knew it was nice to be. It wasn’t something he yearned for. Until he met her.

She’d literally knocked the book out of his hand one day. He’d sat in the local park, it was hot and he was grabbing a few moments to himself when she’d done it.   
“Do you mind?” He’d scowled up at her.   
“Yes I do.” She’d replied back and plopped herself down next to him. “That book is atrocious, and the ending is predictable.” He silently agreed with her, having already read it twice yet something pulled at him to want to read it again. “If you want a good book, read this one.” She’d pulled her bag from under her arm and selected one. He’d looked over the cover, noted the famous author whose books were in his home but yet he hadn’t read this one and looked back at her.   
  


“You think I’ll read this after you assault my poor book?” He gestured to the fallen book laying between them. She’d shaken her head, her eyes remained fully on him as she grabbed it and threw it over her shoulder. Not too far away but enough so it wasn’t in his reach.   
Her actions were bold and he liked it.   
“How quickly can you read?” She’d asked.   
“Quick enough.”  
“I’ll see you back here in a week then. I want notes on it. Tell me what you liked. Same time. No excuses.”

 

She’d grinned at him and left him to his thoughts. She’d fully grabbed his attention and left him wondering who she was. He had no name for her and only knew she had excellent taste in authors. He’d read the book. Finished it in under 4 days and was blown away by the storyline. It had gripped him, forced him to turn the pages and let his imagination run wild. It was a truly better choice than the book she’d thrown away from him.   
  
It had been that simple. The exchange of a book. They’d met that week, and the week after and the week after that. Within 5 months she was living with him and after 2 years, he’d checked every store he could for the perfect ring. He wanted it to match her personality. He hadn’t wanted a normal diamond ring. It wasn’t her. He also hadn’t wanted something too out there, too different just to make a point. When his eyes had fallen on the ring, he’d known that was the one. Just like he knew she was.

She’d been set on having a picnic this weekend. The weather was perfect for it and armed with two new books, they’d taken to the park with a basket of food and a blanket. They laid idly eating, stopping reading to chat occasionally and share a drink.   
  
Children play nearby, dogs bark as they chase balls or sticks that are thrown for them by their owners and despite the nip in the air as it begins to drop in temperature as the evening comes, spirits remain high and the atmosphere is perfect.   
“So,” he begins, “you know that bakery down town that you’d wanted to try?”   
“Mmm hmmm?” she replies, turning her head but her eyes remain on the page, reading until she can get to a point in the story where she can stop. It was a habit of hers and one that he found himself smiling at whenever she did it.   
“Well I bought you a cupcake to try.” Her finger and thumb works together to turn the page and after a few more moments, she finally looks up.   
“Just one? For me? Did you not want one?” she spies the box that he pulls from basket.   
“I must have left mine at home. But I didn’t want yours to go to waste. They let you play with flavours and create something that’s unique to what you want, as well as the normal flavours you’d expect.” He says. “And I think this one is tailored perfectly for you.”

She pops open the box and pulls out the cupcake, she’s about to laugh at how big it is when she spots it. Nestled there among the swiss buttercream frosting. Her eyes flit from the cupcake to him and back again.   
“This isn’t about the cupcake is it?” her words are slow, her breathing increases and she’s trying to keep calm.   
“It is and it isn’t. The sentiment is the same. I wanted the cake to be what you liked and the addition is something that is you. Or at least, it’s the way I see you. I had never expected that this very spot would be so important. A brief decision to sit and read had changed my life completely. Never did I think reading that book would have such an impact but it did. Into my life you came and you’ve shaken everything I thought was stable and steady and you’ve brought colour, laughter, love and so much more to it. You’ve made me question everything I ever thought and yet, when I think about the future, it’s mainly you that I see. It’s you that I want to grow old with, you I want children with if that’s what you want too. If not, then cool. We’ll get cats or dogs or more bookcases for your books if that’s what will make you happy. I can’t imagine my life without you. Will you marry me?”  
She nods, her emotions getting the better of her. She pulls the ring from the frosting pops it into her mouth to clean it before slipping it onto her finger. A perfect fit.   
“How’s the frosting?”  
“Almost as sickly sweet as that speech. Yes I’ll marry you Jann.”  
“I love you Mrs Sommer to be.”  
“I love you too husband to be.”


	23. Double Date.

Word count: 1293

Player:  **Roman Burki**  x oc,  **Rafinha Alcantara**  x oc Mia. 

______________________________  

She met Mia when she was in university and even though they were completely opposite, they both matched perfectly. Mia had been there for her through all the memorable stages of her life. Getting blind drunk, stealing a traffic cone, lying about how the traffic cone got in their dorm room, crying over exam results, cramming in study sessions while they were both hungover, crying over boys, crying over family arguments, terrifying each other with horror films, being napping buddies. If it could happen, they’ve done it.

She was her best friend and soul sister in every way possible.

Until Mia met Rafinha.

She didn’t lose Mia to Rafinha but she found a lot less time was spent just the two of them. She didn’t mind in the slightest, she was just happy that Mia had found someone who adored her as much as she did. Though perhaps Rafinha adored her a lot more and in many other ways…

Still, Mia was loved and cared for and it was everything that she could hope for.

At first, she felt pangs of jealousy but this quickly changed when she saw them together. Rafinha was undoubtedly beautiful. His eyes held her in place and his smile took her breath away. He was truly something else. She didn’t follow football to know who he was or if he was good at what he did and naturally, her concern for her friend crept in. It was no secret that many footballers had been caught out for cheating and she didn’t want her friend falling victim of this but after a while she no longer had these concerns. Seeing how he was with Mia was enough and the only thing she was jealous about was that she didn’t have someone to look at her in the same way. 

“Purleeaaaaaaaase come with me?” Mia had pleaded with her.

“I don’t know anything about football.” She’d argued.

“And I do? The only thing I know is that my boy looks hella fine in that jersey of his.” She made an approving noise and kissed her teeth. “Anyway. What I’m saying is, you don’t know anything… I don’t know anything….we may as well change our names to Jon Snow. But, if we go, I can show my support to my boy during this big game and you get to look at all the totty that I can’t.”

She reluctantly gave in, realizing her friend wouldn’t give in and agreed to go.

Did she leave the match learning anything? Definitely not. Were there good looking players to ogle? Absolutely. What had taken her by surprise was the number that was passed to her by Mia.

“He likes the look of you. Trust me, you’ll love him. Give him a text and see.”

The number? It belonged to a Roman Burki.

–

The restaurant was booked for 8:15 and so far, everyone is half way through their main. Mia and Rafinha were trying to engage them in conversation to make the first date less awkward but Roman kept steering the conversation back to just her. He’d ask her questions that were specific to her before turning it back to the other couple. Roman wanted to get to know her. He was intrigued beyond words. Their texts leading up to tonight had only interested him further and now he was here, at the side of her while they ate, it was something else.

He’d found with many dates he’d been on, that the conversation was incredible via text but when they met up, the topics would dry up, the chemistry that he’d felt wasn’t there anymore. Yet with her it had continued. The jokes they’d shared over texts were genuine, something they could laugh at in person. It had made him want to take the time to fly out to Spain and come for this date.

It was his suggestion that they go on one to see how they were together in person. If she didn’t feel it, she had to tell him, and he’d back off; though he really hoped this wasn’t the case. She’d asked how they would be able to do it with them living apart and he suggested he could fly over between training days.

She’d always wanted to double date and would Roman be up for doing this? It could take away the awkwardness of a first date, especially if he was flying over for the occasion and if it went well, she’d be more than happy to head somewhere else with him where it was just the two of them. He’d watched the way she interacted with Mia and asked Rafinha questions too. It was good for him to see she had some knowledge on the game and she took a genuine interest in what Rafinha had to say.

She wasn’t the type of person to ask questions but then not hear the answer because she’d only asked them to be polite. She takes in the information and asks questions based on the answers and tries to include Roman into it too. Roman could see easily that she had a friendship with him because of Mia and the three of them shared a lot of jokes; most of which they tried to explain to Roman but he knew a lot of them were “you had to be there” moments. Even so, he appreciated the chance to join in.

“So, what’s your verdict?” Roman asks her. He catches himself with his elbows on the table and quickly lowers them again.

“Of what?”

“Of tonight. Am I as bad as you thought?”

“Much worse.” She shakes her head and stabs at her food.

“Oh thanks,” he laughs. He knows he’s staring at her, and has been all night but he can’t help it. The person he’s spoken to, both via phone calls and text, is right here in front of him finally. She’s beautiful, funny and has a good relationship with those around her. Nothing feels tense or forced. He’s pleased to see that. It’s important to see how someone reacts with those they’re most comfortable with, it gives the true version of who they are as a person and even this side of her is a positive one.

“I’m enjoying tonight. Thank you for coming out here to see me.”

“I’m glad I did. I was worried things wouldn’t be the same if I saw you in person.”

“Why? How come?” She speaks then takes a mouthful of food while she watches him.

“There’s always the worry that things won’t be the same. You can be someone else through a screen can’t you? Be more confident, braver and more outspoken. Then you meet the person and they can’t even look at you. You’re not different. I like that.”

“You’re different to how you are through text.” She comments and reaches for her glass and takes a drink.

“In a good way?”

“Very. I expected it to be more about you. That sounds awful, I’m sorry. I just…I expected you to be more ‘me, me, me’ but you’re not.” She stops talking to groan, “which means that person is me.”

“Nope.” Rafinha interjects, “you would be that person if you offered the information yourself. But Roman asks about you. There’s been a healthy balance for you both. Sorry for butting in.”

“No, please join in.” Roman says sincerely. “It’s been a brilliant evening. I’ve enjoyed everyone’s company. Thank you for introducing the two of us.” Roman turns back to her and smiles once more.

Rafinha looks at Mia and laughs, “looks like we’ll have to up our game. We’ve got competition now for couple goals. Is he getting a second date?” Rafinha looks at her.

“Yeah, I think he will.”


	24. Shopping For Fun.

Word count: 630  
Player:  **Rurik Gislason**.     
______________________________ 

She doesn’t know how they managed to get on the subject of consoles but they had and the next thing she knew they were battling it out on the Wii playing sports. Rurik, of course, knew best and would put his moves into anything they did. Baseball, tennis or bowling, it didn’t matter. He was owning it all.   
  
She knew shit was going down when he bent over at the waist, so his head was upside down and he tied his luscious locks up. When he straightened, his face was set in a hard expression.  
“Baby, I love you but you’re going down.”  
She believed it.   
What she couldn’t believe was what happened three hours later and what had happened to result in this shopping trip.   
  
“What about this one?” Rurik gestures to the large TV. “no!” He rushes forward and covers the price, “Don’t look at that, look at the TV and the quality. What do you think? 65 or 75 inch?”  
“I think it’s an expensive thing to break. Again.” She says, admiring the 65” curved. The picture was beautiful but it was far beyond her price range for in her home that was for sure. This TV was double the size of hers.   
“I didn’t even mean to.” He whines.   
“You deliberately took that chance!” She laughs, “and now look at you. Purchasing something else because of your accident.”

  
She still remembers the look of pure determination as Rurik bounded forward, his right leg went behind the left one as he crouched, his arm went out and the Wii remote….glided through the air, hit the tv in the center and that was that. His mouth dropped open, his eyes widened as colours shot across the screen before switching off. “ _No_.” he’d said, quickly straightening up, “ _no. No, no no no. Baby come back to me_.” He’d all but dropped to his knees before it, his hands on either side of the wide TV as he hung his head in defeat. “ _I’ve made a mistake. A huge mistake_.”

“Yeah but it means I get a bigger one.”  
“What is it with men wanting bigger ones all the time? Can’t you just be satisfied with the one you have?”  
“Because mine is broken and doesn’t work.”  
“And this one curves.”  
“There’s nothing wrong with a big one that curves.”  
“Are we still talking about TVs here….?” She teases and Rurik laughs. “I like it. I think you should get it.”  
“Yeah?” He looks back over it. “It’s not too much?”  
“For my house, sure it is but not for yours. Just keep your Wii stick away from it and you should be fine. Or wear the wrist strap.”  
“Where’s the fun in that?” He frowns at her.   
  
She opens her mouth to explain before deciding against it, “I’m not even giving you a dignified answer.” She shakes her head. “I can’t even with you.”  
“Can’t what?”  
“Even.”  
“On a scale from one to even, you can’t?”  
“Absolutely not.”   
Rurik loved how laid back the relationship was. He liked the simplicity of it. With her, he didn’t have to think. There was no drama but most importantly, she made things easy. He hooks an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into him.   
“Where should we go next? I’ve got something for me but I guess you can use it occasionally…” she pushes her finger into his side to make him laugh, “but what can we get for you?”  
“I don’t need anything.” She shrugs.   
“It’s not about what you need but what you want. So tell me, what can I get you? I won’t take no for an answer.”  
“Well, if you insist, I can think of a few things that’s for me but you’ll benefit from them too….”


	25. Keeping Plants.

Word count:  **716**  
Player:  **Marco Asensio**.   
______________________________ 

Marco has hinted on more than one occasion how much he’d like a puppy. He’s done his research, he knows what breed he wants and has looked through the rehoming shelters. He’s found the perfect pup. There’s just one catch. She won’t let him.   
  
“ _But why_?”   
“ _You really want to go there_?” She asked and sat back to look at him.   
“ _Yes_ ,” Marco replied stubbornly. “ _I really want to go there_.”  
“ _Ok fine. One, you’re not around enough to look after him full time. Two, when you’re not here you’ll be expecting me to look after him and that means me having to give up my time too. Three, the cost of one is a big factor. Are you going to put him on raw food or kibble? What insurance will you get? When will you have time to walk him or will you expect me to or do you think because the house is big enough that you won’t have to? Four, when you_ are  _home, you’ll have to spend time with him not just leave him to his own devices or expect me to_.”  
“ _I won’t! I won’t! Look at his face_.” Marco had turned the phone around to show her his face once more.  _“Look at that little fluff ball. Tell me you don’t want him? And he’s in a shelter which I know you feel strongly about. So it’s a win win. He’s cute and we’re rescuing him_.”  
“ _You can’t just get one because they’re cute! Marco, I’m sorry but it’s a no from me._ ”  
  
He knows he’s a big boy; he doesn’t need someone else’s permission to get a pup but she was right. When he was away, he did need someone else to look after the dog and it wasn’t fair to assume she should. But he’d ground her down and they’d settled on a compromise. If he could look after a plant for a month without killing it, she’d consider it.   
“This is a piece of cake.” He’d muttered as he’d watered the plant on the first day.   
By day 8 he’d panicked when the leaves had started to turn slightly brown and the petals of the flower had started to wilt. By day 15 they’d perked back up and was beginning to straighten up again.

And now, with four days to go, Marco was feeling pretty confident that he was going to win this. He bounds downstairs, clicking his fingers and humming a tune that’s been stuck in his head for the past few days. He pads through the kitchen, flicks on the drink machine and switches on the radio before stretching his arms above him. That’s when he notices it. The once blossoming flower is now nothing more than a wilting mess.   
  
“What?” he mutters, his brows knitting together in confusion. His fingers press to the soil of the small potted plant and feels it’s just wet. Not enough to drown it and not enough that it has nothing. It’s the good combination he’d worked out for the past few weeks. It’s the combination that had brought the flower on. “No, this isn’t happening!”  
“Marco,” she says softly from the doorway. He spins on his heel and gives her a dirty look.   
“You. You sabotaged me.”  
“How did I sabotage you?” Her mouth drops open in shock. Marco steps to the side and flamboyantly waves his arms at the sad plant. “No. Marco no. I’m not having you blame me for this.”  
“Explain it then. It was doing fine last night, then you come home and boom. Dead.”  
“You’re far too into this.”  
“A dog is on the line here! Of course I’m into this.”   
“Good, because we go to pick him up in two hours.”  
Marco opens his mouth to argue before realizing what she said. “Wait, we’re getting him? You’re agreeing?” She says nothing, only nods and grins. “We’re getting Rome?”  
“You’ve named him already?”  
“Of course. What fur baby parent doesn’t? I’m really getting him?” Marco’s grin spreads further.   
“Uh huh. I made the enquiries two weeks ago. I’ve paid for him, he’s had his boosters, his flea and worm treatments an-” she’s cut off by Marco wrapping himself around her.   
“Thank you so much.”  
“How could I say no to two cute faces?”


	26. Doctors Visits.

Word count:  **717**  
Player:  **Aaron Ramsey**. 

Another new player I’ve never written about. Another hope that I’ve done ok!  
   
Warnings: mentions of blood tests. I’ve tried to skirt over the details but if the idea of this makes you squeamish, please don’t read!  
______________________________ 

“Stop laughing at me.”  
“I’m not laughing.” She says before biting her tongue.   
“You are inside. I can just tell.”

Her boyfriend sits beside her, his foot nervously twitches as it rests on the opposite knee. Her father had once said “no self respecting man with a big willy would ever sit like that.” But she didn’t have the heart to tease him about that right now. Aaron was almost white as a sheet. He was pretty pale at the best of times but sitting here in the doctors waiting room, he was paling faster by the minute. Usually, she’d make a comment about him needing to be brave. He’s right to make this assumption but not today. She knows he hates needles and especially blood tests and so this is no laughing matter. There are things she will joke about and things she won’t.

“I’m not. I’m worried for you actually,” she says, leaning to the side and grasping Aaron’s sweaty hand.   
“Why?” he bites the inside of his lip.   
“Because you hate them, duh. I don’t like seeing you all worked up. Do you want me to come in with you?”   
She watches as his jaw clenches and his tongue runs over his lips. “Please.”   
“I will, if that’s what you want.” She strokes her thumb over his hand where it can reach and rests her head on his shoulder. She tries another tactic. “Do you have anything in mind for dinner later or anything you want to do tonight?”  
“I know what you’re doing.” He comments and she flutters her eyelashes at him innocently.   
“Is it working?”  
“Yes.”  
“So answer the question then.”  
“I dunno. Something comfort food wise?”  
“I’ll look through what we have then for you.”

  
She spends the rest of the of the waiting time making small talk, something that he doesn’t really have to think about to reply but it does the job. She feels him relaxing beside her, he cracks a few jokes and talks about anything and everything. He’s almost back to normal when the nurse appears.   
“Mr Ramsey?” She feels his hand tighten around hers. “Come this way.”  
“Please don’t leave me.” Panic strikes his face and she wants nothing more than to cuddle him.  
“I won’t.”

They follow silently towards the room and she takes a seat.   
“Can you lay down on here for me? Do you have a better arm for this?” He nods as he slips out of his jacket and taps the arm they usually take it from. Her heart pangs when he swallows hard and tries to keep his breathing steady. She wishes she could do this for him. The nurse taps away at the computer for a little while before standing and going to the small chest of drawers in the corner. Aaron lays back and stares at the wall beside him over the arm that she won’t be taking the blood from and away from where the nurse is right now.

  
“Are you ok?” His girlfriend whispers to him as the nurse attaches the rubber strap to his arm and begins to check for the vein.   
He pales again and nods quickly.   
“Phlebotomist.” She mouths. It does the trick. Aaron closes his eyes and silently mouths it back.  _Phlebotomist_.  _Phlebotomist_.  _Phlebotomist_.  _Phlebotomist_.   
He only winces slightly while she takes the samples, his mouth continues to make the shapes of the word that amuses him. He usually says it slowly in a silly voice to try and overcome his fear of having a blood test. If there’s one thing to calm him down it’s that and thankfully for her, it’s working.   
“There,” the nurse says. “All done.” She attaches a cotton ball and sticks it down with some surgical tape. “Do you need a moment or are you ok to get up?”  
“I’ll have a moment if that’s ok?”  
She nods and excuses herself.   
“Are you sure you’re ok?”   
“No, I feel light headed. I was brave though right?”  
“The bravest man I ever knew.” She grins at him and he laughs.   
“Do I get a sticker?” He asks.  
“I might have some when we get home and a lollipop.”  
“You’re too kind. Thanks for coming in with me.”  
“It’s what I’m here for.” She leans forward and kisses his forehead.


	27. Pets.

Word count:  **1115**  
Player:  **Roman Burki.**

original request was **:** _Roman comes home and his gf has secretly adopted a dog after he explicitly said no and he’s mad but then he totally falls for how adorable the puppy is. The oc comes home and finds roman asleep on the couch with the dog curled up on his stomach. Tell me you didn’t just melt at the visual_  
______________________________ 

Roman enters the house, not to the usual sound of music, TV or the sound of her singing as she potters about the house but to laughter and the sound of a small dog barking. A yap really. He freezes up and clenches his jaw. She wouldn’t dare.   
Would she?

Kicking his shoes off, he makes his way towards the source of the noise and finds her on the floor with a young dog, couldn’t be more than 4 months old, and plays with a tug rope. Her cheeks are flushed, her smile is wide and her eyes look happy? If that’s silly to say so then Roman must be silly. The smile seems to reach them and for the first time in months, he sees her truly happy and in her element.

That smile quickly disappears when she spots him, her arms close around the dogs stomach and she pulls it towards her confirming his suspicions.

  
“Afternoon.” He says.   
“Hello.” She replies.   
“I didn’t realise we were dog sitting.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, waiting for the truth to come out while wondering if she’ll try to bend it first.   
“I mean…” she starts, hesitating when Roman runs his hand over his stubbled jaw and down his neck, “the thing is…” she struggles to find the words. Struggles to remember the speech that she’d been working on all afternoon to perfect. Seeing Roman right there in front of her has all the words and perfectly rehearsed conversation from her mind gone.   
“Say it.” He dares.   
“He’s ours.” She spits it out.   
“After I said absolutely not?”  
“Weeeeeell, no is such a strong word wouldn’t you say? It’s pretty final an-” she stops when she sees his face. “Yeah I did that. I got the dog when you said no.” she hangs her head in shame and concentrates on ruffling the dogs soft fur. He looks up at her and gives her jaw a playful nip and licks her chin. She was in love already and there was no way she was sending him back to the shelter. “Are you mad?” she asks in a small voice.   
Roman looks at her, chews the inside of his cheek with such force his jaw cracks. Of course he’s mad, he’s fuming. He tries to keep himself calm, not wanting to lash out at her even if an argument is justified. At least to him. So he tries something else instead. “no. I’m not mad.” She sighs and looks up at him hopeful, “I’m disappointed. I’ll sleep in the spare room.”

He leaves her sat on the floor, cuddling the pup and feeling ashamed.   
They’d spoken about getting a dog, it wasn’t like this was completely out of the blue but he said not now. She thought he’d changed his mind when they went to a an animal shelter and she’d seen him soften at the sight of them and state on the car ride home that he hoped they found a home and wasn’t put to sleep. Now, sitting alone in the room with the pup bounding around, she realised she’d looked too far into it.   
“Please come around to the idea Roman. Please don’t make me take him back.” She whispers to herself.

–

She’d been nervous the whole day whilst at work.   
She didn’t work anywhere extravagant and there was always a member of staffs dog wandering about, which the customers loved. Her boss had said that she could bring the pup if it would be an issue for Roman to have him at home but she’d stuck to her guns and said no, the pup would be fine. Only, she’d spent the rest of the shift worrying about whether or not this was true.

“It’s fine.” She says to herself as she clutches the steering wheel. For once in her life, she was driving like she had in her test. Both hands on the wheel, everything in perfect order and she daren’t take her eyes off the road. “It’s fine. I’ll just go home, run him a nice relaxing bath. Offer to rub his feet and cook him dinner. I can do this. I can so do this. He will forgive me. I will beg for forgiveness. I will make it up to him.”  
  
He hadn’t text her all day, she had no idea what she would be walking into or even if she’d be walking into the house to find he’d done her the honour of not having to take the pup back herself because he had. He had in fact spent the night away from her and her sleep had been restless knowing he was mad. He said he wasn’t but she knew the look. She knew he didn’t like saying he was mad at her but it didn’t mean it didn’t happen. She hated herself for making him feel this way but she had truly thought they were getting on the same page. He was right to be mad but it didn’t take away her guilt by accepting this.  
  


She parked on the drive, took the time to remove the key and unfasten her seatbelt before getting out and making her way to the house. No noise could be heard, no little claws clipping on the floor, no playful barks or his little growls he makes when playing tug of war with his rope. On the other hand, there also wasn’t the sound of Roman shouting, no whining because the pup was locked away and no unhappiness.

She slips her shoes off, hangs her coat and bag up and begins to make her way through the house, checking in each room for either of them. She’s about to give up and just go upstairs when she spots Roman’s feet near the end of the sofa. She tiptoes into the room and peeks over the back of the sofa before clamping her hand to her mouth to stop any noise from escaping.  
Roman lays on his back, fast asleep with the pup curled up in his arms with his hand on Roman’s chest and his paws on his stomach. The two of them look so peaceful that she can’t stand to wake either of them. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she aims it and takes a picture of them. Roman would no doubt deny this ever happened once he woke up and would no doubt say that he still didn’t like the puppy but she knew, this was the first step to acceptance and the first step to them now being a family.   
She knew, deep down, that she was already forgiven but she was still prepared to grovel.


	28. Vacation.

Word count:  **912**.  
Player:  **Kevin Trapp**.   
______________________________ 

Kevin had been wanting to take her away for some time now, but no time ever felt right, and no destination had ever really jumped out at him as he’d browsed the various websites. He needed somewhere private, somewhere close that he could take her to for a long weekend away and somewhere that she’d enjoy.

She wasn’t fussy, so it wasn’t that she was picky about where they went. In fact, she had no idea he was even planning this. She’d never suggested going away and he couldn’t wait to surprise her with the boarding tickets. Or maybe he wouldn’t even tell her where they were going, just suggest for her to pack a bag and off they’d go.

She’d made some comments about him spending more time on his phone than with her recently, but he’d been putting everything together. All the final little touches to the holiday package. He wanted it all to be perfect for their 6 months “anniversary”. She was the perfect mix of laid back but stern when needed. She wouldn’t let him do whatever he wanted but also relaxed enough to not be checking up on him all the time. He could do what he wanted…within reason. He couldn’t ask for more. He didn’t  _want_  to ask for more.

He’d booked it to coincide with her holiday at work, so he didn’t have to bring up any awkward questions about if she’d be able to get it off. Though as they didn’t live together, he didn’t know what she had in her wardrobe or what she’d need to buy to take. It certainly made things more difficult, especially as he couldn’t just ask her. So instead, he’d asked her friend to help. She’d made suggestions of things that she’d always wanted to do or places she’d wanted to go. By using the information given to him, he’d casually slipped it into conversation and went with her reactions of which to arrange while out there.

Awoken by a silent alarm which vibrated against his wrist, Kevin slips from the bed and heads downstairs. He heads to the drawer where the boarding passes were. Not wanting to take any risks, he’d printed off several of them to ensure if one set got lost, he had a back up. And a back ups back up. He opens the pantry door and pulls out his suitcase as well as hers. Her friend Alba had come around late last night and handed him the prepacked case and wished them luck.

It’s not that he hadn’t trusted her friend, but he had to check the contents, not wanting to take any chances but after going over everything, it seemed just as it should.   
“The next time I do this, she’s in on this. No more sneaking around, no more lies, no mo-”  
“No more what?” Her sleepy voice sounds from the other side of the room. He freezes in place and turns to see her, squinting at the faint lighting and scratching her head. “Why are you up?” Her eyes drop to the suitcases and immediately she’s awake.   
“It’s not what it looks like.”  
“It looks like you’re leaving. With someone.” Confusion fills her face and she’s not sure what to think. “A girl. Unless you have a pink suitcase?”  
“I don’t. No. Can’t say I do.” He trips over his words, trying to figure out how to explain this. This was  _not_  how the morning was supposed to pan out.

  
“What’s going on Kevin?” Her voice is quiet.   
“I can explain this.” He begins. He tries to look at this how she would be doing right now and his stomach drops.  _Please don’t think I’m cheating_.   
“I’m waiting.”  
“There’s a holiday. And the flights are booked and I’ve been trying to keep it a secret. I’m not good with secrets. Or explanations. Why couldn’t you just have stayed in bed? This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He groans.   
“Kevin, you’re making no sense. Who does that suitcase belong to?”  
“It’s yours.”  
“No, mine is at ho-” she cuts herself off, her eyes move to the side as she thinks back. “Alba.” She says. She shakes her head and laughs, everything now fitting into place. “The questions about where I’d like to go, what I’d like to do if I had the chance. Am I a beach person or a lets go explore?” He watches as she relaxes and finally lets the lungful’s of air that he’d been holding inside, out finally. “How long have you been planning this?”  
“Two months.” He finally admits.   
“You on your phone…”  
“Looking at holidays, talking with her, wondering how to get you time off from work but then you must have read my mind and booked it off.”  
“Alba didn’t really need that little black dress last night did she? She said so to get into my flat.”  
“Actually, that part wasn’t a lie. She did have a date but also needed much more of your wardrobe than just that dress.”  
She crosses the room and locks her fingers behind his neck. “Thank you, for caring about me enough to put yourself through this level of stress. Look how tense your shoulders are.” She comments, her fingers releasing each other to pinch at the tightened muscles.   
“I wouldn’t say no to a nice massage when we get there.” Kevin grins.   
“A nice massage is definitely on the list of things you’ll get when we arrive.”


	29. House Cleaning.

Word count:  **1124**  
Player:  **Paulo Dybala.**  
______________________________ 

Paulo knows how busy his girlfriend has been lately.   
Between meeting deadlines, completing her work, looking out for her friends and seeing her family, it hasn’t really left much time for him. Of course, Paulo is bothered by this. He doesn’t get to see his girlfriend but everyone else does. He’s not annoyed about this, it’s just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes.   
  
They were able to text and call each other which certainly helped. Seeing her face on his screen as they skyped was what he needed to fill the void. He wouldn’t tell her this, but he often kept a shirt with her perfume sprayed on it nearby. He also wouldn’t truthfully tell her how much he missed her when she asked. He gave what he was given. A smile, “of course I miss you,” and whatever else she wanted. But he didn’t tell her how as much as he loved seeing her face, her smile and hear her laugh, it wasn’t anything compared to being there and being able to kiss her, hold her and just be there with her.

She didn’t need to be doing anything, just sitting in the same room as him and he’d feel content. He’d feel happy and at peace. It was funny how she did that. He knew she was there before he saw her. He felt the unease wash away and in its place was her. No, he didn’t want to tell her how much he missed her or how much she helped him because he was scared she’d leave, just like the others had. It made being in his home sometimes unbearable.  He also knew she was struggling under the pressure of it all too and to add his burdens, to add his….neediness to the equation? It didn’t feel right.

Paulo knew she wouldn’t see it that way but he felt it. He felt he put too much on her to “fix” him. To make him feel better when it wasn’t her place to do that at all. He shouldn’t depend on someone else and so he kept his feelings to himself.

Paulo jogs up the stairs to the front door and pulls the keys from his pocket.   
She was at work and he had a couple of hours before she was due to finish. The soft click of the door unlocking sounds and he tries the handle. It opens easily and he bends to scoop up her post, only to find more of it behind the door when he closes it.   
Frowning, he collects it all and heads through into the kitchen and drops the post onto the table. He had expected the place to be much worse than it is. He knows when she goes through these stressed periods that her homelife tends to dip and when that happens, her mindset goes with it. He didn’t want her falling into darker times. He didn’t want her getting in a cycle she couldn’t break and so if it was something as having a clean home, then that’s what he do to help. It’s bad by her standards but not by his. Taking a deep breath, he wonders where to start.   
  
–

Almost two hours later he’s finished and on his way home when his mobile rings. He connects it to the Bluetooth of his car and smiles when he sees her name.   
“Hey! How was work?”  
“It was better. I had half a days holiday so I finished at one.”  _Finished at one._  Paulo looks at the clock and frowns when he sees it’s coming up to 6pm.   
“I’m glad to hear you had a better day.” He says absentmindedly, wondering where she’s been for the past few hours if she hasn’t been home.  
“How was training?” Her words pull him back.   
“Training?”  
“I figured since you weren’t home that’s where you be?”  
“How do you know I’m not at home?”  
“Firstly, I know with the way you’re speaking that I’m on your car Bluetooth speaker. Secondly, I know you’re not in because I’m in your lounge and you’re not here with me.”  
He grins, unable to stop himself. “You’re at mine? Right now?”  
“Uh huh. So where are you?”  
“Coming back from yours.” He laughs, checking his mirror before overtaking the other cars, wanting to get home quickly.

She’s exactly where she said she was when he arrives. She shifts her body weight, moving so that she’s pressed up against the back of his sofa. She opens his arms and smiles widely as he climbs on and snuggles into her, unashamed to be the little spoon.   
“I’ve missed you.” The words come from both of them at the same time, resulting in soft laughter from the two of them.   
“Why were you at mine?” She asks.   
“You seem stressed and I don’t like it when you get like that. I figured your home should be somewhere relaxing so I’ve cleaned it for you. Maybe added a few additions in there too that I hope you’d like.” He thinks of the bouquet of flowers on the table and the candles around the bath, along with some expensive bath oils to go in there too. “You work too hard. You need to unwind sometimes.”

“That’s why I came here.” She admits. “I’ve missed you and I’ve felt like you’ve needed me the past few days but I haven’t been here for you. Not in the way you’ve needed.”

“You could have invited me over, you didn’t need to come here if you really wanted to see me.” He chuckles, looking up at her. She was always taken back by how beautiful Paulo was. His striking eyes in contrast to the dark hair never failed to take her breath away.

“Nuh uh. You need to feel good in your own home. Not coming to mine when you’re upset. I’m going to get you feeling safe here.”

“Then you need to move in.” His comment is casual but something that’s been on his mind. “I’m serious,” he says when her eyes flicker. “there’s only you that makes me feel that way and unless you’re here, I won’t feel like that.”

“You’re asking me to move in?”

Paulo nods, “Say you’ll consider it?”

“I don’t need to consider it, if you want me to then I will.”

“As easy as that?” Paulo frowns. He expected to work a lot harder to get her to move in with him.

“If it makes you happy, of course I will.”

“What about what makes you happy?”

“As long as I can sleep, eat, see those that I love and watch you get better I’ll be happy Paulo. Promise me if I move in you’ll work on you?”

“I promise.”


	30. I Love Yous.

Word count:  **888**  
Player:  **Maximilian Philipp.**

 ****  
______________________________

The last week of September signaled the start of Autumn and Milli found himself swept up in his girlfriends excitement.   
“This is it.” She says happily. She’s wearing one of his shirts which is much too big on her yet fits her, in his eyes, perfectly and some shorts.   
At first she was incredibly insecure about her body but the longer they stayed together, the more compliments he paid her and the more she came out of her shell. He watched her confidence bloom before his eyes and he quickly saw a difference. She wasn’t too much, she didn’t go over the top but she was more forward with him with conversations and opening up to him as well as the physical side.

  
“What’s it?” He asks, pulling his attention from what he was doing to watch her bound around. She grabs her woolly bobble hat and pulls it and does a little dance. “You’re such an idiot.”  
“And you’re coming out with me.”  
“But it’s cold.”  
“Duh. It’s Autumn. And you know what that means? Cold mornings, fe-”  
“Cold mornings aren’t good for men.”  
“But good for girlfriends not having to worry about who is looking at our man like this,” she looks him up and down and bites her lip while nodding.   
“No-one looks at me like that.”  
“I look at you like that. As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me,” she widens her eyes and he pretends to zip his lips closed and throws the key, “cold mornings, festive drinks will be in the coffee shops.”  
“Doesn’t count if you have hot chocolates.”  
“Milli, we will start today off with an argument.” He knows she’s joking and he can’t help but laugh at her. She was adorable to him. “big sweaters because of how cold it is, fluffy slippers, Halloween, pumpkin picking and carving and finally, the socially acceptable time of year for me to stuff my face with food and be considered festive.”   
“You could stuff your face all year round and be acceptable to me.”

When she flashes her smile at him, he all but crumbles.   
He’s been falling for her gradually over the months but up until recently, he’s been unable to admit it; even to himself. But now? Now he’s finishing his sentences in his head. He’s looking at her and hoping he’s not pulling heart eyes as he thinks  _I love you._ There’s been a few times where he’s almost said it.   
  
There’s been times when he’s been laid with her in bed and she just looks so peaceful and beautiful as she checks her phone notifications and he’s wanted to say it. When she’s fresh out of the shower, her hair up in a towel as she wraps another around her body, he wants to say it. When she’s cooking them a meal and she’s turned, her hand under the wooden spoon to get him to taste it, he’s wanted to say it. He wants to, but he doesn’t know how.   
  
“What?” She says, her eyes scanning his face for any give away.   
“I’m trying to work out how to tell you I love you.” He says it so simply and so effortlessly that he’s shocked at how natural it sounds rolling from his tongue. Her lips part, forming a small o shape and he sees her chest expand but the breath never leaves her. Her eyes search his face again for a sign that he’s joking. He can’t possibly be saying this can he?  
“Milli…” she trails off.   
“I don’t know if you’re ready to hear that yet but I’ve wanted to say it a lot lately and rather than blurting it out in an embarrassing moment, like out in public, I’d rather say it here. Indoors, with just the two of us. You don’t have to say it back, just know that’s how I feel, because I do. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to keep reminding you of this.”  
She says nothing, she wants to but unlike how easy it was for him to find his, no words of her own will appear. So she nods. She sucks in her lips to wet them despite her mouth feeling dry. She keeps nodding until she closes the gap between them and kisses him.

They’ve kissed hundreds of times. Quick pecks, long lingering ones, frantic “I need you now” type kisses and lazy “taking our time” ones. Yet none of them felt like this. None of them suddenly felt like they have meaning. She melts into it, her hands cupping the back of his neck as she feels his hot breath on her face as he exhales. Her tongue meets his and a mewl escapes her.   
“I love you too.” She says between kisses. She’d wanted to say it before too. She’d felt it in her gut, had to walk away before she too blurted it out. She hadn’t wanted the first time she said it to him to be meaningless. It was her first time ever saying it to someone that wasn’t family. It was the first time she truly felt it and that scared her. The second those words left her mouth, she knew their relationship had changed. When she feels him smile against her lips, she knows it’s for the better.


End file.
